The Perfect Match - Continued
by IlariaandSteph
Summary: This is the sequel to The Perfect Match, set during the movie.


THE PERFECT MATCH - CONTINUED  
  
  
Part One: Germania  
  
1  
Vindobona, October 180AD  
  
"That's not fair! You always win! If I didn't know you better, I would think you were cheating!" General Quintus Clarus exclaimed, waving his hands in disgust.  
His opponent and friend, General Maximus Decimus Meridas, replied with, "I assure you, I am innocent!" before bursting into laughter and causing Quintus to glare.  
"Our Maximus is implacable, both in battle and in games." commented a voice behind them and both the officers turned to see Marcus Aurelius watching them with amusement. The old Caesar had been so silent that evening that they had almost forgotten he was in the tent.  
"Sire, I hope we did not disturb you." Maximus said.  
"Quite the opposite Maximus, it is pleasant to hear laughter after so many days spent listening to cries of pain." He was referring to his visit to some of the Roman villages scattered along the Danube border that had been recently attacked by the barbarians.  
"That's right, Caesar." said Quintus.  
An amicable silence fell in the richly furnished tent lit by torches and oil-lamps and Maximus began to position the pieces on the latrunculi board. "Do care for another game?" he asked Quintus sweetly, fully expecting a sarcastic remark but his friend's words were interrupted by the arrival of Cicero, Maximus' manservant.  
"Excuse me Caesar, General, Sir," he said, bowing in turn to the three men, but a courier has just arrived with a letter for General Clarus."  
Quintus stood up and took the sealed papyrus, opening it and scanning it.  
Marcus Aurelius and Maximus saw him pale and the General asked with concerned, "Is there something wrong?"  
"It is from Antonia..."  
"Something happened to her? Is one of the children sick?" Marcus Aurelius' voice was full of worry for his niece and her children who were living near the camp of Augusta Vindelicorum.  
"No, no thank to the Gods they are all right," Quintus quickly reassured him, but my mother sent a letter from Rome.....My father is very ill and the doctors believe he will not live much longer.... She asks me to go home as soon as possible.." he closed his eyes in pain.  
"I am so sorry," said Maximus, rising on his feet and patting his friend's shoulder.  
"I grieve with you, " added Marcus Aurelius.  
Both men knew -- as Quintus did -- that the general could not leave the front now. The Roman Army of the North was on the verge of what could be the last, resolutive battle of the never-ending war against the German populaces and all the command staff had to be there.   
Quintus nodded to his companions, "Excuse me, Caesar, Maximus, but I would like to be alone."  
"Of course, Quintus, you don't have to ask. You are free to go." the emperor said.   
The general bowed his head in salute and left the tent.  
Marcus Aurelius and Maximus stared after him for some moments, both lost in their thoughts, until Caesar said, "What about calling this the end of the evening? I still have some letters to complete and you surely have more interesting things to do than watching me write."  
"As you wish, Sire." Maximus walked near the over stuffed chair where the old man was sitting. "I wish a good night and, please, don't tire your self too much." The general smiled slightly.  
"You know me too well, Maximus. But I promise to behave." Marcus Aurelius' eyes cringed with amusement but deep inside he was touched by the younger man's concern for his well being.  
"Good to hear it, Caesar." And with a bow, Maximus exited the room.  
  
*****  
  
Maximus walked in the night and stopped in the yard which spread in front of the Praetorium. It was still early and he was not tired. Since he did not have any reports to study or orders to write, he decided to take a brief walk in the camp, just for the simple pleasure of it.  
Wandering without a precise destination, Maximus was not surprised when his feet took him near the stable area. Picking up a handful of hay he went to his horses, Argento and Scarto. The animals whinnied their welcome and Maximus spent the next ten minutes feeding and patting them. In the end he leaned against the pole which divided the two stalls and, crossing his arms over his chest, he raised his head and looked at the moon, letting his mind relax. Unbidden the image of a woman's face, with sparkling green eyes and luxuriant chestnut hair appeared in front of him and Maximus closed his eyes.  
"Hildegarde." he thought. Four years had passed since the last time he had seen her, but her memory was still powerfully alive inside him. It was in clear, cool nights such this, when the air smelled of pine-tree, a scent so much alike hers, that memories of the young woman sprang to his mind, and the pain of losing her returned with force.  
After their farewell in the camp near Noricum, Maximus had never tried to see her again, too afraid he would not been able to let her go a second time, because, deep in his heart he knew he still loved her.   
Maximus remembered as if it were yesterday, a morning two years earlier when, during a ride in the forest, he had meet Hildegarde's mother, Rodelind. After a moment of awkward silence they had greeted each other and spoken briefly. Maximus learned that Rodelind had married Godeoc and that the alliance had brought she and Hildegarde back into the tribe. He had smiled happily and then found the courage to ask the older woman about her daughter. Rodelind had looked away from him and softly replied, "She is fine. She has a new man who is making her very happy." Maximus had nodded and forced a smile, berating himself for his jealousy. He had no right to feel it: he knew that he could not offer Hildegarde the life she deserved. He should have been grateful that someone was caring for her and making her happy. But inside his chest something had twisted in pain and after a hurried goodbye he had galopped away, hoping to leave his suffering behind.  
The feel of Scarto's soft muzzle nuzzling his neck brought Maximus back to reality and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no sense torturing himself. With a last pat for both of the horses, the General left the stables and returned to his tent.  
  
2  
  
Rome had won.  
After 12 years of war the Germans had been finally defeated once for all.. Maximus could barely believe it. He was going to see his family again and this time it was for good.  
A slap on his back made him jump with surprise.  
"Daydreaming again?" Quintus asked to his friend.  
"Yes, I was thinking about Selene and Marcus. " Maximus smiled, "It seems almost impossible that I will soon see them again."  
"I think I can understand your feelings. I have been away from Antonia and the boys for only six months and it seems like a lifetime. I don't know if I would be able to stay without them so long as you have done.....I think I would go crazy...."  
"Well, certainly you are already nervous and snappy enough..."  
"Are you referring to yesterday's discussion about the catapult? You know I was not questioning your orders, it was only......." Quintus voice's trailed off.  
"Nervousness. You wanted the battle to be over soon. I know the feeling and you don't need to justify it to me. I am just sorry your return in Rome is due to such sad reason." Maximus offered a smile.  
Quintus nodded slowly, thinking about his dying father and then murmured, "It is time for me to leave."  
Maximus turned to him, "We will see each other again, won't we?" he asked.  
"Of course! I will come to visit you in Hispania. I really want to see you with your hands dirty harvesting your crops and playing the country gentleman!"  
"And you will let me know where I can find you! In Rome or......"  
"Or wherever I will be. Really, Maximus, I just don't know if I will remain in the army....I might decide to begin a political career."   
"Well, I know you will be good in whatever you should decide to do. And now it is better if you go: Antonia is waiting for you and I must go to speak with Caesar."  
"Ah, that's why you are wearing your best uniform!" Quintus smiled and patted Maximus on his back, " See you soon, my friend, and bring my regards to Selene."  
"Only if you promise to do the same with Antonia." Maximus and Quintus embraced warmly and then separated, walking in opposite directions, one to the stables, the other back to the Praetorium.  
  
3  
  
Maximus could scarcely believe how his dream of going home and forgetting everything about war had been shattered and transformed into a nighmare in the space of only few hours. If not for the throbbing wound to testify to it tragic reality he would have thought it was only a giant farce. But it was not so.  
While his horse ran in the deserted forests of Germania, Maximus re-lived again and again the events of the past day: his conversation with Marcus Aurelius; his decision to obey to his emperor's last command and become the Protector of Rome; the sudden call in the middle of the night by Arramus, the captain of the Praetorians; the discovery of his monarch and beloved friend's death; his refusal to to swear loyality to Commodus; his arrest and escape.......The images flashed in front of him as in in his mind Arramus' cruel voice continued to repeat, "Your family will die with you, the line of a traitor must be extinguished."  
Maximus' heart constricted in pain and terror as he thought about his wife and son in Hispania......the idea of loosing them was so painful that it was unbearable even to think about. He had to reach them.  
  
*****  
  
The hours passed in a blur for Maximus. He stopped running only to switch horses, not sparing even a single minute to tend the deep wound to his left arm. He knew that the night would arrive all too soon, forcing him to stop and he did not want to loose time during the day.  
When the darkness finally arrived, obscuring his view of the road, Maximus stopped for rest. He was exhausted both by the blood loss and the lack of food, but during the day he had not met a single village from which to buy something to eat. He would have to wait till tomorrow.   
The general tied the horses to two trees and with the last of his strenght looked for wood to light a fire. He had no covering besides the two saddle blankets and the night promised to be chilling. With the orange flames to light his work, he tended to his wound as well as he could, changing the piece of his tunica he was using as bandage. He then leaned his back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. He did not want to sleep, because of the wolves roaming the woods, but he was so tired that even breathing was paifnul. Without being aware of it, Maximus fell in a deep sleep, almost like unconsciousness.  
  
4  
  
The German woman was scouring the forest searching for the last medical herbs she could find before the winter killed them with its frost. Hildegarde had left her village at dawn wanting to be back in the early afternoon but her task was hindered by the snow which had fallen during the night. In some places it had been transformed into ice by the chilly wind and it slowed the woman's movements.  
As Hildegarde approached the small clearing where she had found a good supply of herbs the week before, her senses were alerted by a noise. She stopped and tilted her head to listen.  
The noise repeated.  
"Horses," thought the young woman, "And they are very near." But to whom they did belong? Germans or Romans? In the last three years the area where her village was -- which the Romans called Noricum -- had been very peaceful. The Quadi tribes who lived in the zone had finally accepted the Roman domination in return for food, peace and protection, but the Germans were still weary of the conquerors.  
The horses whinnied again and Hildegarde realized they were probably very near the place where she planned to go. She swore under her breath. She had walked for so long that she did not like the idea of returning home empty-handed. After pondering the problem she decided to hide in the forest and wait for the horses and their riders to go away.  
Moving cautiously behind bushes and trees Hildegarde arrived at her destination. She could see the horses tied to two trees but not the men with them. She flanked the clearing and saw a man lying on the ground covered by saddle blankets near an extinguished fire. She looked closer but was only able to see the back of his dark-haired head and his booted feet. As she was watching, the prone body shook and Hildegarde heard the sound of a dry cough, followed by the sound of a raspy, sibilating breath. Whomever the rider was, he was surely in bad shape.  
Time passed. The coughing went on, becoming even more violent, but the lying man did not stand up. In the end Hildegarde's healer instinct could take no more. She could not go away without ascertaining the man's condition. Keeping very quiet she walked near him and knelt behind his back. As her hand moved to push away the blanket, a sense of dejà-vu assaulted her and she felt transported in time, to four years ago, in a place not very far from this one, when she had met the only love of her life: Match- Maximus.  
Hildegarde pushed away the painful memories and touched the man's neck. He reacted to her hand and slowly turned. As their eyes met, Hildegarde felt her breath leave her in a rush. It was not possible......it had to be a dream.....it could not be him....But it was. The deep blue eyes, the dark beard, the little, sensual month.....everything was exactly as she remembered. He was him, her Match. And then she heard his voice whispering with wonder in Quadi, "Hildegarde, are you really here?" He tried to raise a hand to touch her face and she took it between hers.  
"I am here, Mat....Maximus." she replied.  
"Please...help me..."  
"Of course I will help you. Now be quiet." She squeezed his hand before letting it go and touching his brow. "My Gods, you are burning!"  
"Yes...." His too bright eyes stared at her before a bout of coughing wracked him.  
"I must take you home, you can't stay here." Hildegarde looked at the horses, wondering if he would be able to ride when she felt Maximus tug at her hand. She lowered her eyes to look at him, "Yes?"  
"I...don't want..to create...problems to you..." he rasped.  
"Problems? You will never create problems to me." Hildegarde sligthly smiled and caressed his cheek.  
"But your... husband..."  
"What husband? I am not married, Maximus, I never been." Because the only man I wished to wed was already married, and it was you....She added only in her mind.  
"But...your mother...told me so...time ago.." Maximus looked at her interrogatively.  
"You misunderstood. But now stop talking and save your strenght. Are you able to stand?"  
"I think so...."  
"Here, let me help you." Hildegarde grabbed his arms and Maximus cried out in pain. "What is it?" she asked worried.  
"My arm...is wounded..a sword..." Maximus was breathing rapidly.  
Hildegarde helped him to sit up with his back against the trunk. She put her cloak over his shoulders and went to saddle the horses. Even though she was trying to look calm she was very worried for Maximus' condition. Her only thought was to take him home as soon as possible and hope she and her mother would be able to help him as they had done four years before. But why we must always meet in such way? she wondered. And what will you think when you will meet Match?  
Hildegarde finished tightening the girth of the saddle and returned to Maximus.  
In the next few minutes -- and with a lot of difficulty -- she helped him to mount on of the horses before mounting the other.  
"Hold tight." she said to him and he nodded, his body shuddering from the almost costant cough.  
Very slowly and carefully, with Hildegarde keeping both horses' reins they began the road to the village.  
  
5  
  
Hildegarde decided to stop before the first of the huts came in view. She had suddently remembered that, outside of her mother, everybody thought that Match had died four years before fighting against the Romans. She did not how Godeoc might react to discover the unconscious soldier and so she looked for another solution. She found it by hiding Maximus in a little cavern near the her rock overlooking the stream. After she was sure he was warm under the saddle blankets, she left him and rushed to her village.  
Luckily she encountered her mother in the street and stopped her. "Mother, please come with me in the forest!"  
Rodelind her the urgent tone in her daughter's voice and asked, "What's going on?"  
"I found a wounded man." replied Hildegarde, pulling her mother by the elbow. "I need your help."  
"A wounded man? Why you didn't you take him to the village?" The older woman asked as she followed her daughter into the woods.  
"Because.....because he his a Roman, mother." Hildegarde could not bring herself to reveal the man's true identity just now.  
"Hildegarde, must you always drag home wounded Romans you find in the woods?" Rodelind's voice was laughing, but her eyes were not. She was worried- evening had already fallen, and it was growing cold. Godeoc would wonder where she had gone to, and he would not be pleased when he learned the truth. Four years before, his son, Brettix, had nearly been killed by a pair of Roman hostages being held captive in the village. Although the young man lived, his wounds had never completely recovered. His sword arm was weak, and he was a liability in battle. His father was angry of the glory that had been stolen from his son, and disliked the Romans even more than most.  
And how do I feel about it? Rodelind wondered as she and her daughter continued to slide noiselessly through the thick underbrush. She loved her daughter very much. For many years, ever since Rodelind's husband had betrayed his village and moved south with the wolfmen invaders, they had been all the other had. Rodelind could not help but distrust the people who had shattered her family.   
Several years earlier, just days before Brettix was wounded, Hildegarde had brought home another wounded Roman- this man was a soldier, whose memory was completely gone. Rodelind and Hildegarde had shielded his identity from the tribe and nursed him back to health…Hildegarde had given him her heart…Rodelind suspected that he had been the one to release the captives from their prison, and helped them to return to camp. Although she did not want to believe it, she feared that he had taken Hildegarde captive to use against her people. What was worse, her daughter had gone along with the scheme- she and the man had agreed to meet nearly three months after his departure.   
To his credit, he had returned, but Hildegarde had not met him. By then she was almost four months pregnant with their son. Showing him, knowing his true feelings about her condition, might have been too much to bear. She was glad that she could persuade her daughter to give him back to the place where he belonged…  
And then he had appeared again. She had nearly died of fright when he hailed her from the high horse that was riding through her town, desperately worried that the townsmen would recognize him as the man they knew as Match.  
She and Hildegarde had propogated the myth that Match had been killed by the Romans who held him captive- even Godeoc believed it was true- what would they think if they found him alive, and wearing a Roman uniform? It could not be! Thankfully, the Gods had heard her prayers again. Her words- telling him that Hildegarde was alive and happy- had sent him away.  
"Here, mother…" her daughter said leading her in the small cave.  
Rodelind lifted the torch that she was carrying over the prone figure on the ground. The man was lying on his side, facing away, and her keen eyes traveled the length of his body, going first to the wound. It was deep, and looked to be infected…..  
"He's lost a lot of blood." She murmured. "Help me to turn him."  
Hildegarde nodded, taking the torch from her mother and extinguishing it in the soft earth. Then she laced her hand gently under the man's shoulder and rolled him forward.  
Rodelind's eyes drifted upward from his shoulder to his face.  
And then she gasped.  
Hildegarde watched with trepidation at the mixed emotions which flashed through her mothers eyes. The women had never discussed what eventually became of "Match", and Hildegarde hoped that her mother's suspicions had not tainted her view. Luckily, the older woman had lived too long, and endured too much to maintain a capacity for shock. She met her daughters eyes questioningly, and then she reached tenderly toward the wound again, temporarily shedding the role of mother for healer.  
"Have you ever run across this man when he isn't bleeding to death?" Rodelind asked as she dabbed at the cut. Her voice was light, attempting humor, but it found no response in Hildegardes eyes. Her mother sighed. "It will be alright. It is not nearly so deep as the last time."  
The other woman nodded.  
"What shall we do?"  
"I don"t know- we can't take him to our house. The village thinks that he is...." Rodelind let her voice trail off. "And Godeoc...."  
Hildegarde nodded. She knew that her mother would do whatever she asked, but she did not want to place her in the position of choosing between her husband and her only child. "We will tend for him here....see what you can do about cleaning the wound while I build a fire..."  
  
6  
  
The next morning, Hildegarde watched closely for any signs of movement from her patient. Maximus had slept throughout the night, restless, but unfevered, and she hoped that he might awaken soon. Rodelind had gone- returned to fix breakfast for the men in their hut- Godeoc, Brettix, Ratchis and Match- and now Hildegarde fought the urge to reach forward and touch her patient"s face...to curl into his arms and try to forget that four years had passed.  
Four years.  
At least he remembered her. That was a start. He thought that she was married....  
"Urmmm....."  
A sound from the Roman's lips brought the woman quickly to attention. She scrambled away, lunging for a skin full of water to hold to his lips.  
His eyes opened, he took a drink of water. Then he stared.  
For just a moment, Hildegarde thought that he had lost his memories again, but all too quickly, his face clouded like a stormy sky. His features were distorted with emotion she had never seen in them before: hate, rage...fear.  
"Hildegarde..." he rasped.  
Before she could blink, he was struggling to his feet. "My sword..." he demanded hoarsely.  
"What do you want to do?" she asked alarmed.  
"I need to go....I must save them..." Maximus was trying to stand but he was staggering very badly, his hand pressed against the wall of the cave for support.  
Hildegarde put her arms around him, "You can't move, you are too ill....."  
"I must go ..I.." Maximus doubled over as a bout of cough shook him. He tried to do another step but his knees bend over him and he collapsed to the ground.  
"Maximus, for Gods' sake, stay calm! You can't move!" Hildegarde turned him until he was lying on his side and massaged his back until the cough stopped. Then she made him lay down on the ground.   
Hildegarde gasped as she met his eyes. He was crying, burning tears of pain, desperation, fear and rage. She grabbed his hand and asked, "What happened to you?"  
With a raspy voice and stopping often to regain his breath, Maximus told her everything had happened to him and about the death sentence that hung on his wife and child. Hildegarde was horrified by his tale and moved by his desperation.  
In the end he whispered, "Please help me, Hildegarde......I must reach them."  
"I will help you....Here, drink this, it will make you feel better." The healer helped the sick man to drink all the potion she had prepared before and then watched as the medicine worked, knocking him out.   
  
*****  
  
That afternoon Rodelind returned, carrying more medicines and news from the village. "Godeoc is so busy with the preparation of the meat for the winter that he did not noticed your absence but little Match wants to know were his mama  
had gone." Rodelind's features softened, as it usually happened when she spoke about her grandson.  
Hildegarde nodded.  
"Did he regain his senses?" the older woman asked watching Maximus.  
"Yes.....I..Oh, mother you don't know what horrible things are happening to him!" Hildegarde exclaimed, twisting her tunic in her hands.  
"Tell me," her mother said quietly.  
Hildegarde told her everything and Rodelind gasped with horror. No one, not even a Roman, deserved such fate.  
"What do you plan to do?"  
"I need to keep him here at least for a week..." the younger woman paused a moment then added softly, "I want to tell him  
about Match."  
"What!? Are you crazy?" Rodelind almost shouted.  
"He deserves to know the truth."  
"But what we will do if he decides to take Match away? I don't want to lose my grandson!"  
"Maximus will never do such a thing." Hildegarde with certainty. She caressed his face gently and added, "I just hope meeting his son will give a reason to stay quiet a few days more."  
Rodelind pressed her lips and nodded, acknowledging her daughter would not change her mind.  
  
*****  
  
The following day, Maximus wake up at dawn.   
He felt much stronger than yesterday. In silence he threw away the furs covering him and looked around. His feature softened when he saw Hildegarde curled on the other side of the cave, still deeply asleep.  
He stood up and moving carefully searched for his sword, finding it posed against the wall. He tied it to his belt, grabbed one of the furs for warm and turned to leave the cavern. The point of his sword scraped against the stone producing a sound and Hildegarde woke up.   
She saw him exting the cave and called, "Maximus? What is it? Maximus?"  
"You know what is it....I must go!" He paused, and looked at her. For just a moment, his features relaxed. His gaze was full of apology. All too soon, it ended, replaced by the fearful urgency she had found when he awoke the day before. "I"m sorry."  
And then he walked toward the his horses.  
"Maximus, stop! Maximus....Maximus, you aren"t well...!!" Hildegarde shouted scrambling on her feet and following him outside.  
He ignored her.  
"Maximus stop! I must tell you about Match!" she called desperately.  
The general turned and looked at her without understanding, "Match?"  
"Yes, Match....He is my son......YOUR son."  
"What?" Maximus blinked, not trusting his ears.  
"Our son, Maximus, he is a wonderful baby...he has your eyes... My mother is bringing him here..." Hildegarde was speaking softly, trying to approach him.  
Maximus heart was beating wildly. Hildegarde had a son. His son. Match. He wanted desperately to stay there and meet the boy but his other son needed him in Hispania.   
Suffocating his emotions, he pulled himself onto the stallion and said, "I will be back to meet him. I promise it." When he grabbed the other horse's reins and galopped away.  
"Match! Don't go!!!!"Hildegarde cried, abandoning her struggle with the syllables of his Latin name. Please don't leave me again. But it was all useless : he had already disappeared among the trees.  
Hildegarde stared in stunned silence. Everything had happened so quickly....  
What could she do? Maximus needed help. His condition was still critical and she no doubt he would began to cough again very soon, but how she could help him? Hildegarde began to run through the wood, following his path. It was then she saw her mother coming in her way with Match. Hildegarde withheld her breath when she saw Rodelind had taken the family mare! In a flash the young woman was near them.  
"Mother! Dismount! Quick!" she called.  
Rodelind was too stupefied to respond and did as her daughter asked. Hildegarde ran to her and after a quick kiss on her son's cheek she said, "Take care of him, I must help Maximus!"  
"What? Hildegarde, where are you going? Hildegarde!!!" Rodelind was frantic but her daughter did not answer or stop. She jumped on the mare and kicked her flanks hard, throwing herself on Maximus' tracks.  
  
7  
  
Quintus was greeted as a hero when he arrived in Augusta Vindelicorum. The news of the last, decisive victory against the barbarians had spread as fast as the fire in a dry forest. Soldiers and inhabitants of the little town came out in the street to congratulate with him. Quintus was a bit embarassed by all the attention but he understood how important the promise of a lasting peace was for the people living in the area after so many years of wars and raids.  
However he was not in the mood to loose time. He wanted to reach the little house inside the castrum where his family was waiting for him.....he could not bear to wait another minute before hugging Antonia and his two little boys, Titus and Appius.  
  
*****  
  
Antonia was reading in the little library/study of her home was she heard a great commotion coming from outside. She put down the volumen and walked to atrium to see what was going on. Her heart jumped in her chest when she saw the small procession coming in her way. Her eyes swept over the jubilant soldiers and citizens to concentrate over the lone rider who was leading him. "Quintus!" she whispered as she recognized her husband's face. Only the fact that she was the Emperor's niece kept her from rushing out of the house and into his arms. The people of the camp and the little town considered her as their princess: the perfect example of the Roman matron, a jewel in those still uncivilized lands. She did not want to upset them with unlady-like behaviour. However, it took all of Antonia's resolve to simply walk to meet her husband, her stola pulled modestly over her brown-gold hair.  
Quintus saw his wife walking among the crowd and his breath stopped. She looked like Venus exiting the sea, a godness among mere mortals. Never leaving her with his gaze, he dismounted from his horse, and walked to her to, the people surruonding him stepping politely away.  
Then they were one in front of the other, they stared for a few moments before Quintus spoke, "You are beautiful, my Lady." And then he kissed her hand, lingering with his lips on her smooth skin a little bit longer than customs required.  
"As you are, domine." They smiled to each other, conscious that their restraint was due only to their 'audience'. Quintus offered his arm to Antonia and together they walked to their house.  
When finally the door shut behind their back, they turned to each other and embraced tightly. Antonia dis not mind being crushed against his hard armor, she was so happy to be in his arms again.  
After a while Quintus loosened his grip and cupping her jaw in his hand raised her face to him, "I missed you so much, my love." he whispered before kissing her tenderly and passionately at the same time. Antonia responded in kind, releasing all of the worries of the past six months. Their ardor was increasing to a dangerous level when a little voice called, "Mama?"  
They both turned a little bit embarassed to meet the sleepy eyes of Titus.  
The child tilted his head and then a smile appeared on his face, "Tata!" he shouted, letting the stuffed doll he was carrying fall to the ground and running toward his father. Quintus barely had time to bend down to receive the little embrace.  
"Titus! Look how you have grown!" The general picked the boy up and raised him to the sky, inspiring delighted laughter. "So, have you been a good little man while I was away?" he asked sitting Titus on his arms.  
"Yes, I was!" the child replied firmly and Antonia quirked a eyebrow.  
"Really?"  
"Mama, It was not I who threw the dirty dish water on lady Clodia! It was Appius!" the child was adamant in his defense.  
"Of course!" both parents said at unison.   
"And where is your guilty brother?" Quintus inquired.  
"He is sleeping......He is always sleeping." Titus looked disgusted.  
"If he is always sleeping he can't be causing trouble, so...." Quinrus looked in his son's eyes and the boy turned his head away. "Oh, well you are both forgiven. But don't it again, all right?"  
Titus nodded with his head, before kissing his father's cheek. Quintus winked to Antonia and, hugging his son to his chest went in the other room to wake up Appius.  
  
*****  
  
Later that night, cuddling in each other's arms after carrying out their very 'private' reunion, Antonia and Quintus told to each other what had happened to them while they were separated. He told her about the strategies which had led to the final battle and how it had developed. Antonia loved to hear about the military reports and liked to comment them. In return she told him about their children's exploits and about the life in the camp. After so many months spent speaking almost entirely of life-and-death matters, it was pleasurable to hear such silly news as a centrurion's new affair or how the tavern owner was trying to convince the soldiers that the beer was better than the wine.  
"And of course," Antonia went on, "The most exciting thing which happened here was the arrival of the imperial carriage last week. The Centurion Cassius did of his best to impress the crown prince...the soldiers' armors were so polished you could use their breastplates for mirrors! But I doubt Commodus noticed it. My cousin is so wrapped within himself." Her voice died and she shook her head.  
"I saw him in Vindobona. He is quite an unsettling young man. He spent much of the night speaking with Maximus and I can assure you our friend was not happy to have him near."   
"Well, my husband, I don't like to have Commodus near either. I visited him in the Praetorium the evening he spent here and it was not a pleasurable experience. He has changed from the last time I saw him in Rome and not for the better. Sometimes I wonder how a fine man like my uncle could have fathered such a son."  
"I think Marcus Aurelius himself wonders about it. He seemed very cold with Commodus. He even refused to walk with him in front of the troops."  
Antonia nodded. "May I tell you something?"  
"Since when do you need my consent to speak?" Quintus asked, kissing her hair.  
"It is just an idea of mine and you might think I am crazy...."  
"Tell me."  
"Well, while he was here, Commodus gave me the impression that he believed Marcus Aurelius had called him in Germania because he wants to announce his son's succession...."  
Quintus nodded, inviting her to go on.  
".....But if I know my uncle, it is more probable he called Commodus to tell him that he WON'T become emperor.."  
"What? And to whom, by the Gods, will Marcus Aurelius leave the throne?"   
"Can't you guess? For me it is obvious. He has been planning the move for more than four years…" Antonia smiled, certain of her deductive abilities. "Oh, Quintus, don't be so dumb! Why do you think my uncle wanted him to marry me so badly?"  
"Maximus?!" Quintus sounded incredulous.  
"Why not? He is a moral, a just man and he is a leader- Not to mention the fact uncle loves him like a son."  
"You forget Maximus knows nothing about politics! He has never been to Rome. And he wants to return home to be a farmer."  
"Yes, that could be a problem but Caesar can be very persuasive....."  
Quintus was still very skeptical and Antonia pursed her lips. "All right, you don't like my idea. Very well, let's concentrate on something you do LIKE...." and with an impertinent smile on her face, her hands began to caress his chest, slowly disappearing beneath the sheets...  
  
8  
  
For the second time in as many days, Maximus felt the hair on his nape stand up in alarm. He stopped his horse and turned around, watching to the road he had just covered. He was almost certain that someone was following him, but who could it be? Praetorians? Had they found their dead comrades and were now seaching for him? Or it was a mere thief wanting to steal his horses? Worried as he was, Maximus decided to end the matter while he was in a better position than his follower. It didn't make sense to risk being surprised in the middle of the night --especially considering how bad he felt in the cold air --while he could get the upper hand in the middle of the day. Quickly he galloped to a nearby creek he knew was in the area and pushed his horses across it, walking along the stream for around 100 yards. Then he exited the water and covered a large semi-circle in the forest, until he reached again the road behind his follower. The prey was now the hunter. Hidden in the forest, Maximus spied the lone, fur-covered rider and saw him come to the stream and stop, looking to the left and to the right, scanning the area and searching for him. Maximus watched for some moments, wondering about how strange the rider's movements looked, and then unsheathed his sword and charged forward.  
The follower's horse reacted to the unexepected noise by rearing and its rider had to grab its neck to avoid a fall. The sudden move made the rider's hood slip backward, revealing a thick mane of chestnut hair. Maximus lowered his sword and stared open mouthed for a second before asking, his voice a mixture of rage and surprise, "Hildegarde, what are you doing here?"  
"I could not let you go away alone. You are still too sick!" Hildegarde raised her chin in a defiant expression but inside her she was praying he did not send her away.  
"This is not a pleasure trip! You know what I am doing! I am returning home to save my family.....It might be dangerous...."  
"I know it and I am not afraid."  
But you should be. I am terrified. "What about your son...our son? He needs you."  
"My mother and Godeoc are caring for him. He will be all right." Hildegarde bit her lower lips, "Please, Maximus, I could not let you go away again....I....I am not asking anything from you, just let me come with you and care for your health ...please."  
Maximus's heart twisted upon seeing her loving gaze and hearing her plea. How could he send her back? They were too far from the village. He rubbed his brow, "All right, come with me." He turned around and went to retrieve the second horse which he had left in the forest. He returned near the woman and, muffling a bout of coughing, said, "Let's go."  
  
Part Two: Hispania  
  
1  
  
Hildegarde didn't know how many days had passed. They had begin to rush away in a blur. Maximus rose before dawn, and didn't stop until it was too dark to proceed. There was only a single horse now, Maximus had sold one of his own to a trader they had passed on the road in return for food, while her mare had pulled up lame and had been left behind. Hildegarde rode now with her arms twined around his waist. The touch of her hands on his stomach was the only think that made her believe that he was real.  
She remembered, distantly, the stabbing pain of watching Maximus ride away so many years before, but that was nothing compared to what she endured now. They were together, their bodies always touching, but his mind could not be more distant. He was like a fevered man, possessed, intent only on one thing- reaching his family. Hildegarde wondered, at times, if he even knew that she was alive. His only reaction to her was a faint grunt of thanks as she applied her healing salves to his wound, a nod before going to bed, and a harsh announcement when the sun had risen far enough for them to wake.  
She was a fool to have come.  
During the stifling silence of the ride, she was alone with her thoughts, and she filled them with the wish that she had never found Maximus again- that he had gone to another village or- though it pained her even to think it- that he had died before she could save him. Then, at least, she would have her memories untainted.   
What could possibly become of her when she arrived in Hispania? Maximus had a wife, a child...surely his actions made it clear which woman he preferred .... which son...What would become of her?   
The land had changed so dramatically- first the forest that she had always known- then the plains, then the high mountains, and now, as the days dragged on, fertile, rolling hills.  
She had never been so far from trees....from lakes...from the sights and smells and sounds she knew. Even the sky seemed different, larger some how as though it had spread its mouth to devour her. Every day she grew more afraid...but she did not speak. She was frightened, but still proud- and still desperately in love, no matter how grim the future seemed.  
"There....."  
It had been so long since Maximus had spoken, that Hildegarde blinked, wondering for a moment if she could believe her ears.  
"What?"  
She tilted her head, and then held on for dear life as Maximus buried his heels in the weary stallions ribs and goaded it faster down the lane.  
"Maximus, no-" Hildegarde began to speak."You're killing it." she completed in her mind, but the words died on her lips as she looked ahead. A thin column of smoke rose along the horizon, black and menacing.  
Maximus kicked the horse again.  
"Selene....Marcus..."  
Hildegarde made a cry of fear as the animal they were riding stumbled, she fell away, rolling in the grass, her gaze immediately shifting to Maximus, who had borne the weight of the fall on his leg.  
If he noticed the pain, he didn't betray it. He was walking again, running....  
Hildegarde scrambled to her feet to follow him through a pair of marble urns, the friendly geraniums the housed in striking contrast to what lay beyond. She took a sharp intake of breath as her eyes scanned the fields of wheat- no, what used to be wheat. They were ashes now, a few, twisted fronds still smoking in the distance, the ground near the lane dusted with salt.  
There were bodies too- some of them burned, others merely battered.  
Servants? Hildegarde, though a healer all her life, had never seen such carnage.This is waht a battlefield is like.... she thought to herself as she surveyed the scene. She looked to Maximus for confirmation.  
"Maximus? What happened?" She said in a low voice. "Who are these people?"  
There was no reply.  
She turned toward him, tilting her head as she noticed the glaze in his light eyes.  
"Maxi-" and then she saw it.  
A chill ran along her spine- equal parts horror and mystification- and perhaps a shadow of guilt. Across what must have been the mainbeam of the house, two charred corpses hung. They had been nailed there, Hildegarde noted with a start, left in agony and then, when perhaps the pain had dulled, burned. It was Selene. She knew it in her heart without asking. The look on Maximus' face spoke volumes. It was broken. Lost.  
She watched with horror as a choking sob brought him to his knees. He drug himself forward, his eyes bleary as he limped toward his family and pulled himself once again to a stand, burying his head againt the blackned skin of what had been her feet.....  
Maximus...she wanted to hold him, to help him- but how?   
He was more lost to her than ever.  
  
*****  
  
Hildegarde watched as Maximus scaled the still-smouldering crossbeam and lowered his wife to the ground. Her body crumpled as it met the earth, the blackened limps splayed in odd angles. Without speaking, he did the same to his son, then climbed down again, kissing them both reverently, as if blind to their disfigurement.  
He was going to bury them.  
Hildegarde moved forward but then, intuitively, stopped.   
She had no right to be here, to even see this….she was part of what had drawn Maximus away. This was a part of his life that she had never shared, never would share…that she had threatened. He must complete the task alone.  
Moving like a sleepwalker, the general smoothed back the scorched wisps of Selene's hair, arranging her arms in a position of rest, and then he stepped forward, using a shattered piece of pottery as a tool, and began to dig…..   
  
2  
  
He wasn't moving.  
Hildegarde had been wandering near the geraniums, trying to leave Maximus in peace when a jagged sob had sent him to his knees. Now he lay prone and still on the groud before his ruined house. The bodies were covered now, fresh earth mounded over the shallow graves, Maximus himself their ornamentation. For one, terrifying second, Hildegarde thought that he was  
dead.   
She stepped closer and then she reached forward with her hand. Maximus' body was very cold, but she could feel the pulsing in his neck.  
Shock had overwhelmed him- she should be grateful that he had a few moments of respite. Swallowing, Hildegarde looked around her. Even without the aftermath of the terrible disaster, she would have felt undone. The ruined foundation of the house was larger than any clanhall that she had ever seen, and the fields that had once been wheat spread around them for as far as the eye could see.  
The trees were strange- not the wide, gnarled-limbed oaks and birch of home, but slender, conical specimens that looked almost like pine. Hildegarde walked to the closest, rubbing her hand across the smooth, heat-scarred bark, wondering if the spirit of the tree had survived the carnage.  
Everything here was dying.  
Hildegarde swallowed and scanned the horizon.  
No, everything here was already dead.  
The body of a servant was lying nearby, and the German woman forced herself to walk forward and flip the body- a girl, forward in the dirt. She recoiles slightly as the sightless eyes met her own. Gathering her courage, Hildegarde pulled the body into a ditch.  
There were a dozen other servants that she could see. Most of them were around the house. Could so few have run such a large estate? Or had the others run away? It didn't matter. They would have to be buried soon….  
Hildegarde walked to Maximus once more, wishing that he would awaken and give her some excuse not to undertake her task, but he remained still, and so she returned to the lane, setting her hands on another charred tunica and setting to work. She would have to burn them, There was no way that she could bury so many bodies alone.  
  
*****  
  
At nightfall, Hildegarde stopped. She had cleared away the servants near the house, and it was too dark to see to see the fields. Though she was ashamed to admit it, Hildegarde was afraid to be near the bodies any longer.  
Ghostly stories of her childhood floated back, the memories tricking her eyes into seeing movement in the pil she had created.  
Off in the distance, a wolf howled.  
No, it couldn't be a wolf, she corrected herself. Surely it was too far south- but the lonely braying chilled her just the same. She curled up next to Maximus, trying not to think of the woman who slept eternally beneath them in the ground…..  
  
3  
  
Hildegarde was used to waking early, so she was surprised to open her eyes to sunlight, already streaming from high in the sky.   
Her exhaustion had been so complete that dawn had not coaxed her from her sleep.  
What was it then?  
The German rubbed her eyes, and then sat up sharply.  
There were people close by…..  
Suddenly awake, Hildegarde rose slowly to her knees, gasping as she looked down the lane. A large party of horses and carts was moving across the lane.  
Strange, dark-skinned men were leading the beasts. They were craning their necks toward the house- their assembly bearing a strange resemblence to the carrion birds that circled overhead.  
It was instinct and nothing more that guided her steps. Hildegarde had no basis to fear the strangers. They were not Romans, and their appearance was not fearsome enough to have created the chaos that she saw around her, but there was a tightness of alarm in he chest, and she had to move. Dragging Maximus behind her, she moved toward the ditch where she had left the  
bodies.  
"Ici ay yoon dalla…."   
The words of the caravan leader were even more bird-like than Latin. "Dya soo….."  
Hildegarde drug Maximus further away, taking shelter behind a fallen wall. Her eyes widedned as she watched the men's actions. They were moving methodically through the yard, poking each of ther corpses with their sticks, making comments to one another.  
There were MEN inside the carts.  
Hildegard blinked as she finally realized who the men were- slavers.   
She had heard of such men growing up in the brown bear village. Her people feared only the army- slavery was the cost of defeat, but the tribesmen who worked voluntarily in the camps brought back stories of the other servants- of sweet-voiced greeks who wrote letters, of incense-scented Persians who kept accounts…of men darker than those picking through the farm who tended the ballistas and quarried rock for the Roman roads…They had recounted the stories of the other slaves- how they had been stolen from their beds and pressed into lives of bondage…was this to become of her?  
Match….her heart yearned, but this time it was for her son. She had not told him goodbye…she could not let them take her away!  
The slavers were moving closer now. She realized with panic, that they would be to her soon. They had quit testing the bodies of the servants who were obviously dead, devoting their attention instead to sifting through the shattered pottery and crumbling blocks for any items of value that had remained…..  
The bodies.  
Hildegarde felt, in the same moment, revulsion and relief.   
They were already so close- the smell in the early morning sun was almost overpowering, but she knew what she had to do if she were to survive. Grateful that the way was downhill and closeby, Hildegarde once again gathered her arms beneath Maximus' and slipped toward the hastily arranged pyre….   
  
Hildegarde ripped the pocket from her tattered apron and used the fabric to cover her nose and mouth. Her eyes were tearing, and her stomach churned, but her fear overcame her distaste. She released her hold on Maximus at the back edge of ditch, his limp form half tilting into the indentation. She curled beside him, hoping that her trembling would not betray them.  
It seemed like hours passed, but the gentle, tinkling sound of bells told Hildegarde, struggling to keep her eyes shut, that the caravan had not departed. The men were close, she could hear their sandals crunching over the broken ground, and she imagined that they were still looting the house. She wanted to stretch her limbs. Her initial fear, strung to a fever-pitch with the men's arrival- was beginning to lose its precedence over her discomfort. Her fair skin was burning beneath the rising sun.  
"Hileef dotak!"  
Hildegarde started at a sound much closer than she had expected. The men were very nearby now. Taking a risk, she cracked her eylid slightly, the icy grip of fear returning at she saw an ankle only a yard away.  
"Tsa-tse!" A second man answered the voice. Hildegarde let her eyes, shileded somewhat by Maximus' body, open a little wider and studied the men. They seemed to be arguing, the larger man gesturing with a large stick. Her stomach lurched as he jabbed it pointedly into on of the corpses near the front."  
"Morte!" He said with a sound of disgust. Other syllables followed, and the second man nodded....they were beginning to walk away.  
The hope that rose in her chest was shortlived- very quickly, the second man returned, an acrid smell, even stronger than the decaying flesh, wafting through the air.   
Torches.  
They were going to burn the bodies.  
Terror gripped every muscle in her body, stalling her thoughts for a few long moments. How would she get away now? What would become of them if they gave their position away...Match- would she ever see him again? Her mother....Maximus. Hildegarde's breath came out in a slow shudder.  
"Hrrah! Sayoun! Hrrah!"  
Just as she was freeing herself from shock, a shout went up, and around her, the men began to scatter. The torch was dropped, snuffing itself on the already charred ground where it came to rest. Hildegarde craned her eyes and heard the reason for their fright. Horses...more strangers had arrived, the sound of hoofbeats grew louded as the tinkling bells faded away.  
"[in Latin] Lady Maxima!"  
Hildegarde took abreath as the new voices began. They were speaking quickly- Latin, she recognized the sound if not the words....names. "Marcus! Selene.....Selene?"  
Feet scrambled forward. This time it was not the sound of thin sandals, but the heavy hobnailed boots of a farmer. The voice shouted instructions to another, and beside her, Hildegarde could feel the pile shift as the bodies were pulled aside.   
The newcomers were looking for something for someone in particular.  
"Selene!" The voice called again, and then the man gasped.  
"Maximus!"  
"[in Latin] Fabius, come here....look...."  
Hildegarde began to breath very quickly as, beside her, Maximus' still-unconscious form was eased away. Where were they taking him? Would they hurt him?  
Dimly, she was aware that if she just laid still, they would go away. Maximus would be taken, but she could escape. She could return home...forget this place....  
But once again, her love would not let her lay idly by. The last centimeter of the General's tunic left her touch- and she jumped immediately to her feet.  
"Let him be!" She screamed in Quadi.   
The Romans jumped in fright, moving almost instinctively for their weapons. There were two men- a father and a son from the similarity of their features and the disparity of their ages. Their attired matched their boots, rough and homespun- simple.  
"Leave him!" She cried again. "Leave him!"  
"[in Latin] It is alright. We will not hurt him." The older man stepped  
forward to take command, keeping his fingers lightly on his knife. "Calm....Who did this?"  
"Who are you?" Hildegarde said. "Who....?"  
"Amicus...." The farmer touched his chest and then her lover. "Amicus Maximus...."  
Finally, Hildegarde's breathing began to slow. She could not understand the man's words, but she could read his intent. He would not hurt them.  
"Venis," The man took her arm and gestured toward the horses they had brought. Too spent to struggle, Hildegarde obeyed.  
  
*****  
The farmers took them to another villa around a turn in the road. It was a smaller house, and the lands were not as vast, delineated from Maximus' own by a neglected fence.   
So, they were neighbors. Hildegarde thought. That was why they had come...they had seen the smoke...  
She barely had time to reflect on the matter before they were herded inside the house.  
The old man turned to her again. After shouting something to a plump little woman who stood by the door, he turned once again to HIldegarde, and began speaking to her very slowly, as if stronger pronunciation of his Latin syllables would magically transform them to sense.  
The german girl could only shake. She recognized the word "Maximus"- and responded by vigorously nodding her head. At last the man sighed. Throwing his hands in the air, he had simply walked away. Hildegarde had sat alone in the kitchen for a long time, and then she had gone to the room where Maximus lay. She crept in silently- half afriad that she would be sent away, but the doctor attending Maximus - an old, wisend man who smelled sharply of spice- simply ignored her. Hildegarde wanted to help, to ask him about the potions that he was applying to Maximus, but of course, she did not know how. She  
sat miserably in the corner of the little room where he slept, wondering how long she would be allowed to remain.  
At last, just before dawn, the General's light eyes eased open. After a moment of disorientation, he swallowed dryly, and Hildegarde lunged in front of the doctor to give him a drink of water.  
"Maximus..." she murmured, her voice full of relief.  
He looked at her, and then looked away toward the window. In the early light, smoke from the funeral pyre- the bodies of the servants- still hovered on the horizon.  
"I'm still alive." Maximus said dully in Quadi.  
"Yes."  
  
4  
  
Two weeks later, Hildegarde's life was still filled with uncertainty. Maximus was steadily improving. He was walking and moving about just as he had before Hildegarde grudgingly admitted that even the wound in his arm, carefully tended with her potions for weeks- had benefitted from the new doctor's care. In every way his body seemed back to normal, but his eyes had lost their fire. He drifted through the house like a ghost, rarely eating, never speaking, every day growing a bit more dark.  
In some respects, life had improved. She was fed now- basic meals, but palatable and filling. She had a new, Roman-style tunica to wear, and tepid baths in the servants quarters every other day. There were many new things to grow accustomed to. She had never seen a building as large as the barn that housed Fabius' cattle. She had never seen a spindle, or a loom like the ones his daughters used to weave. It was fascinating, and at the same time, unwelcome. She could barely cope with so much newness at one time....  
Hildegarde had been allowed to remain in the floor of Maximus's room. She didn't know what the neighbors thought she was now, and she didn't care. Maximus tolerated her, nothing more- but it was enough. Every time he met her gaze, she was certain that he was about to send her away, and after that terror- still acute after so many days- the silence was easy to bear.  
And then, one night, she woke up and found that Maximus was gone.  
Hildegarde's heart began to pound. Where was Maximus? He had gone to bed when she had...perhaps he was merely attending to necessities in the bathroom. Perhaps he had been thirsty and gone for a drink- her mind conjured a thousand possibilities, but they could not convince her heart.  
He was leaving.  
Not understanding what she was feeling, Hildegarde sprung to her feet.  
The little house was asleep. Not even the kitchen servants were stirring- it was still too early for baking, and too late for the slaves who washed the dishes after meals.   
The rear door was cracked open, and she slipped outside, moving like a sleepwalker across the lawn to the barn.  
"Maximus?"  
Hildegarde peeked her head inside the door, almost afraid of the vast, cavernous place.  
"Maximus?" She craned her ears, searching for hints of human movement above the soft whinnies of the horses. She was about to turn to leave when she was answered by a gruff reply.  
"Go away."  
Maximus! Hildegarde felt tears prick at her eyelids as she hurried into the shadowed building. Maximus was in a corner, saddling a horse. A pack was strung across its back. Full of food, she realized instantly. He really was going to go...  
"Maximus, where are you going?" She asked timidly.  
"Away...." He said darkly. "To do what I must."  
Hildegarde tilted her head to the side. "To kill the man who did ... .who...." The man fell silent.  
"Please don't go." she said softly, lowering her head to the ground. "Maximus, please I-"  
"I have to go. There's nothing left for me here."  
"Nothing?"  
No answer.  
Hildegarde took a deep, shuddering breath. It was nearly over. The miles she had come, the nights she had wept for him, the dream of happiness she had sheltered in her heart even when all hope seemed gone...she had endured it all for this: to hear that she was nothing- that she loved him and he was still going away.  
Something inside her broke. Perhaps, in holding so tightly to the dream, she had let her heart grow brittle, like a sapling growing around a rock, so defined by what she held that, without it, she could no longer survive.   
No Maximus.  
Without him, the other worries that she bore- the strangeness of the land, her hunger, her fear for her child- seemed suddenly to grow.  
No Maximus.  
Without him, there was no hope.   
She would die. Here, in the sweltering dreamland.  
Alone.  
She didn't remember the cry she made, or falling in the straw. There was nothing but pain, grinding into her like a saw against her bones.  
"What will happen to me?" She sobbed, her eyes too clouded with tears to see the reaction that her query drew. "Where will I go? I am lost....lost...."  
"Hildegarde..." distantly, she registered his uncomfortable murmur.  
"Home..." her small form shook violently. "Home...." and then, almost a wail. "Match!"  
In a flash, his arms were around her. He held her, cradled against his chest for many moments before she realized what had happened. Maximus was crying too, his body shivering as it releases the trauma of the past days.  
"Shh...." he whispered, stroking her hair. "Shhhhhh....."  
"Don't leave me...Maximus, please...don't...not again."  
"I won't leave you..." He whispered. "I'll take you home....Hildegarde, you shouldn't be here."  
"I want to be here. I want to be with you."  
Maximus bit his lip very hard. "I know...what you want....but..." He sighed heavily, but did not complete the statement. "I'm leaving. Tonight. Fabius says that there is a ship leaving from the harbor in the morning."  
"A...a ship?"  
"Yes..." He frowned a moment at her confusion then realised that she had never seen the object of which he spoke. "A....a wooden craft- like a raft. It will take me...us..." he added reluctantly. "Across the sea."  
"Home?"  
"To Rome."  
Hildegarde looked at her hands. Rome! The lair of the mother wolf! It would be even worse than what she faced here...but if she didn't go, what then? How would she get home? Could she trust Fabius and the other men, or would she be enslaved, like the poor creatures she had seen in the cages. Slowly, she nodded her head.  
"I will go."  
  
5  
  
Maximus stared at the horizon, barely seeing the roiling waves that crested and broke against the bow of the little ship. They had been at sea for eight days. At sunset on the fifth day, the sky had been clear and full of stars.  
On the sixth, the storm had begun.  
The worst was behind them now, he thought, almost in regret. Though foam still sloshed over the edges of the little ship, the waves were lower, the wind a little less fierce. The next day, perhaps, they would be able to raise the sails again and correct their course for Rome.  
It was simply a delay. One more irritation standing between the general and his revenge.  
"M-maximus...."  
The Spaniard turned to look behind him. Hildegarde was draped in a discarded sagum, her hair hanging in soaking tendrils around her face.  
"C-c-come below...." She said quietlly. "It's cold."  
Maximus studied her face. It was clear that she was frightened to be here.  
The sea was foreign to her lands and people. The look on her face when they had first caught sight of the glimmering Mediterranean had convinced him that she shouldn't come, but once again, her courage had surprised him- though she had spent the better part of the journey curls up in the miserable little cabin they shared beneath the decks.  
He nodded curtly. It was cold. He didn't care for himself, but the German looked very pale. She wasn't used to being soaked to the bone, and wasn't accustomed to the salty sting of sea-sprayed air.  
When they reached their room- a box barely large enough to hold a travelling chest and bed- Hildegarde exchanged the sodden sagum for a woolen blanket and, after a moment, her shivering began to subside.  
"Is it clearing?" She asked timidly.  
Maximus nodded. "I think so...another day, perhaps."   
Hildegarde nodded as well, and an uncomfortable silence fell between them.  
Maximus looked at the girl's face. Now that the shock of what had happened to his family was beginning to fade, he was more aware of the sights around him. He saw the uncertainty in the woman's face. She seemed to want to tell him something...  
"Speak." He said curtly, but the German remained mute. Maximus sighed. This was pointless. He knew that Hildegarde's alienation was his own fault. She was still in love with him, that much was clear, and he....A sudden memory of Selene sent a pang of guilt through him, and he killed the thought- he cared about her. As a friend. As the mother of his child.  
Match.  
Maximus looked at his hands as he explored his feelings about his unknown son. For so many days he had been wrapped up in grief over Marcus that he hadn't considered the import of Hildegarde's words. He had another child ....another son. No matter what his feelings for the boys mother, the baby had a claim to his affection. But what kind of claim?  
Maximus' jaw twitched nervously, and Hildegarde seemed to catch the look.  
"What are you thinking?" She asked softly.  
"About my son." He answered slowly. Once again, her face turned ashen, the way it always did when he spoke of Marcus or Selene...he didn't know how to read the look....guilt? Shame? Pity?  
"About.... "our" son." He said slowly.  
Hildegarde's green eyes looked up quickly. "Match."  
"Yes."  
The woman smiled- the first time that he had seen the look on her face since their last night together in Germania nearly four years before. He wanted to preserve it. "Tell me about him?"  
Hildegarde looked at her hands, her cheeks flushing with pride. "He is...wonderful." she began, closing her eyes to picture him in her mind. "He looks like you....well, he has your coloring....your eyes..." another grin flickered across her lips. "He is so strong for his age- and fearless. He and some other boys in the village fell into a berry bramble while they were  
playing this spring, and he hardly cried at all..."  
Maximus regarded her tenderly. She was an excellent mother. He could sense, even in the tone of her voice, how fiercely she loved her child. "He must miss you...."  
And trace of happiness vanished immediately from the woman's face. "Yes." She said sadly. "I didn't tell him goodbye."  
Maximus frowned at the transformation. "You will see him soon."  
"Perhaps."   
Maximus looked toward the wall to avoid her ashen face. "So he has friends in the village?"  
"Yes....many. Things have improved very much for mother and I since she and Godeoc wed." The tension was draining from her face again as she spoke of familiar things. "Mother and Godeoc had a child soon after Match- also a boy, but he died ....mother was too old...." Hildegarde sighed as she remembered. "They took it very hard, but then Match provided comfort. Godeoc treats him just as if he were one of his own." She thought of Brettix and made a face. "Well, better than one of his own....and Match loves him."  
Maximus felt a pang as he thought of the other man taking his place- caring for the son that he had never known. "So they don't hold it against him?"  
"Hold it against him?"  
"His...his father being Roman."  
Hildegarde's mouth formed the shape of an "o", and she waited a moment before she spoke. "They don't know....no one knows. Match- his father- is dead."  
Maximus bit his lip. It was true. Match, the man she had loved, had died on the day that Maximus regained his memory. Though he remembered his feelings for Hildegarde, his loyalties had laid with his wife...with Marcus. Perhaps it was better this way.  
"I wish that I had known about him."  
"Do you?"  
The earnestness of the question shocked him, and so he pondered his answer.  
She was right. It was better that he didn't know. Could he have left her if he had known?  
"No." He said at last.  
Hildegarde's face remained neutral. "Then I made the right decision." She said cryptically, and then added, as if in explanation. "I watched you."  
"Watched me?"  
"With...the wool. I watched you for ten days...wanting to go to you." The longing had crept back into her voice, and it tugged at Maximus' heart. It didn't seem fair that he couldn't reciprocate the way that she felt. He didn't hate her. He simply didn't feel anything at all. His heart was dead.  
"You...were right.." Maximus walked to where she was sitting and took her hand. "You...were brave." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you. Hildegarde...I....I know how you feel...I know...what you want. I can't give it to you. I'm sorry, I feel...lost. Broken. Revenge is all I want. After that-"   
"You're still alive, Maximus. You're still a man."  
He looked at his hands. "I'm not ready." He said firmly.  
Hildegarde lowered her eyes, answering only in her heart. "I'll wait."  
  
6  
  
Six more days had passed. Land was in view again now. The ship landed briefly at Massalia to take on fresh water and supplies, and color seemed to return to Hildegarde's cheeks. She was still frightened- life amidst the leafy forest had not prepared her for the empty vastness of the sea- but feeling Maximus warm to her again, if only slightly, had soothed her spirit  
and reignited her courage.   
They were together often now. Even though their closeness made the German long for him even more, she respected Maximus' desire to hold her at a distance. Just speaking with him, seeing that each day his sadness grew a bit more faint, was enough to pull her through.  
The ship was very small, barely large enough to stretch their legs when they went above decks for fresh air. below was cramped and dark, high slits of windows (and even those had to be closed when the sea was rough), suppliemented occasionally by a smokey candle, providing the only light.   
Their quarters were very cramped, and there was very little to do. To pass the time, Maximus began to teach his companion a bit of Latin. The words were very challenging for the German's tongue. She was used to strong consanants and deep, rolling "r"'s- not the soft, half-mouthed vowels of the southerners, but she applied herself diligently. The merest whisper of a smile on Maximus' lips when she remembered to ask for "aqua" made the frustrating struggle worthwhile.  
The weather had calmed, and Hildegarde was once again struck by how fair and bright it was in the south. No wonder the invaders were so strong, with such plentiful sunshine and wide rolling fields- such as those she sometimes caught a glimpse of as the moved along the coast- they would have plentiful food. Ridding themselves of this worry would allow much more of the resources to be spent on war- how strong her people would be if they posessed such riches! A dark smile crossed her lips at the thought- her people, the "barbarians" here, in Italy...It seemed impossible, but....  
"What are you thinking?" Maximus asked, joining her by the rail where she was staring toward the landfall.  
The smile quickly melted from Hildegarde's features, knowing that her thoughts would not please the soldier. He had lost his family, but he still had Rome. She knew that he loved it more than he realized...  
"I am thinking that we will be there soon." She answered, continuing to stare at the horizon. "in Rrrm" She sighed in frustration as her tongue stumbled on the name of the capitol.  
"Roma." Maximus corrected gently. He stepped beside her, staring for a bit.  
"And you are right- we will be there before nightfall tomorrow."  
Hildegarde sighed internally...only one more night that she could be assured of sleeping in his arms.  
Maximus noted the change in her expression. "Are you frightened?"  
She siezed on tne explanation willingly. "Yes...I-I don't know what to expect. Not many of my people come to the city as freewomen."  
"I have never been to Rome either."  
"What?" Hildegarde was aghast. "Never been to Rome? But you are a great general."  
Maximus laughed. "Not a great general, just a competent one." his eyes grew distant. "But that's no reason for me to go to Rome. They don't care where we come from, as long as we fight." Then, more seriously, he added. "The empire is very large. Even the distance we've travelled is only a fraction of the lands we've acquired."  
"Stolen."  
Maximus' features twitched, but in the end he did not acknowledge the challenge. "Rome is the light...you can't see it now but..." he shook his head. "Imagine a hundred years from now when your great-grandchildren....our great-grandchildren-"  
Hildegarde's heart flew to her throat with excitement at the words, but then it fell with the realization that he was only referring to the offspring of Match.  
"- think of them drinking clean water that has been brought from the river by acqueducts...buying fresh fruits and grain at market whenever they are hungry because goods are brought in over passable roads, learning to read and write in school-" the rhapsody ended in an excited hush.   
"Imagine them as Romans." Hildegarde said sadly.  
"Yes." The general answered, in a manner that indicated her had not caught the irony in her voice. "Citizens." He looked at the woman beside him, his face suddenly very grave. "Match is eligible for citizenship already. You were never a slave... There's no law against it."  
"I am not- was not, your wife." She reminded him. "I thought that was a pre-requisite."  
"Flexible." Maximus said again, the glimmer of hope snuffing in his eyes. "Adoption." he murmured.  
Both parties stood at the rail for a long time, watching, for the last time, the sun sink into the sea.  
  
*****  
  
Hildegarde fell asleep very easily that night, and her dreams were happy ones. She was with Maximus again on the floor of her mother's hut, the soft fur rubbing against her back while her hands explored the taut muscles of his chest. She luxuriated in the perfection of their contours, murmuring as Maximus' lips brushed the skin of her neck, his hands moving lower, caressing her intimately, earning a deep moan for his efforts.....  
Maximus came instantly awake, his heart hammering in his chest as though he had been sprinting. He blinked for a moment, waiting for the difference between waking and sleep to resolve itself and then, finally comprehending his surroundings, gasped.  
Hildegarde was moving against him in her sleep, her hands sliding unconsciously along his chest, one of them cupping the curve of his hip, the other stroking the hardness between his legs.  
He shivered as he noted his body's reaction. What was she doing?  
"Hildegarde...." he murmured, trying to still her hand.  
"Match..." came the answering sigh, deep with longing.  
"Hildegarde." He said a little more loudly, finally struggling free of her grasp.  
Her features curled into a pout as the connection between them severed, and he watched her face for a long moment before it finally slackened back into a pleased smile.  
Oh Gods.  
Maximus rolled onto his back, trying to sort through what had just happened. She still wanted him- that much had always been clear, but he had not realized the strength of her desires- so deep that they expressed in dreaming what they would never betray to the light of day.   
He had to stop her- to make her see that he only wanted Selene, and that she had to get on with the rest of her life....  
But if that were true, why had he reacted as he had? Maximus shifted positions uncomfortably, painfully conscious of the still prominent desire she had awakened...And why did he wish that he didn't have to make her stop....?  
  
  
Part Three: Rome  
  
1  
After more than three weeks of travel Quintus, Antonia and the twins reached Rome. The trip could have been shorter, but the boys were still too young and too lively to spend so much time confined in a carriage. They needed to spend a few hours each day playing outside, to strech their little legs, and tire them enough to sleep through the night without keeping their parents awake with incessant questions. Quintus was surprised by how tiring it could be to spend the entire day with Titus and Appius. He was very indulgent with them, much more so than Antonia and the children knew it very well. It never stopped amusing his wife how Quintus, a general, the second- in -command of all the armies of the North, was completely at the mercy of two three year old boys. Quintus was conscious of it but the children were so little that he could not bring himself to be stern. He did not want to think of how hopeless he would be if Antonia would gave him a daughter, a tiny copy of her mother...  
At last they reached the capitol and setted into the Claudii's family villa.   
It had been years since Antonia had been there and Quintus had never seen it before. The domus near the foot of the Palatine Hill, the most exclusive of the residental area of the Urbe, on top of which was the majestic imperial palace.  
Quintus wanted to explore the house but he barely had the time to see that his family was confortable before going away to reach his own family villa on the Celius Hill. He needed to contact his mother and learn if his father was still alive.  
With a quick kiss for Antonia and a promise to return as soon as possible, Quintus left the villa.  
  
*****  
  
Quintus' reunion with his mother and older brothers was sad. Titus Clarus senior had passed away five days before his son' arrival and the domus was enveloped by an atmosphere of grief. Quintus went to visit his father's grave in the family cemetary and asked his forgiveness for not coming home sooner. The general was sad that his parent had never met Antonia or the twins. He swore to tell them of the wonderful grandfather they would never know.   
After the visit to his father's tomb, Quintus spent a few hours with his mother, planning her visit to his house for the following day. He hoped that the sight of her boisterous grandchildren would helped her to ease her grief. At last, he bid goodnight to her and his sister Clara and returned to the Claudii's villa, longing for the cheerful company of Antonia and the boys.  
But it was not to be.  
  
******  
  
Quintus had barely stepped into the atrium when he sensed that something was wrong. Even if he had never emt the servants before, he could tell that they were moving through the house too silently and too discretely, as if they were trying not to disturb someone.  
"What's going on?" he asked, suddenly worried. "Where is Lady Clara?"  
"She is in the master bedroom, domine." replied the steward.  
"Take me to her."  
"Yes, sir."  
Quintus barely noticed the mable covered floors or the beautiful frescos on the walls as he followed the man along a maze of corridors. The servant stopped in front of a door and bowed his head, "It is here, domine."  
"Thank you." Quintus dismissed him and then knocked lightly on the wood. He got no answer and so he gently opened the door.  
The first part of the suite housed a small library filled with beautiful furniture but Quintus only glanced at it, walking quickly in the bedroom.  
What he saw made his breath rush away.  
Antonia was lying belly down on the bed, crying uncontrollably. On the floor near the her was a crumbled piece of papyrus .....a letter.  
In two steps, Quintus was beside his wife, hugging her tightly, "What is it?" he asked.  
Antonia did not reply, but emabraced him with all her strenght.  
"Please, darling, speak to me....You are killing me.." he whispered again, caressing her hair.  
Antonia raised her head and looked at him with eyes full of pain, "A courier has just arrived....with news from Germania....." her voice broke and it was several seconds before she could go on, "My uncle....my uncle....Oh, Quintus, Marcus Aurelius is dead!" And with another strangled sob she buried her face in chest.  
Quintus wrapped her more comfortably against his body and closed his eyes. The Emperor was dead. What was going to happen to Rome?  
  
2  
  
The big perystilium was full of laughing people but nobody was really enjoying themselves. There was too much tension in the air and the cheerfulness was forced. Antonia was talking with some senator's wives, trying to keep eye contact with Quintus. She felt uneasy among all the people there who wanted nothing more than to obtain Commodus' favor.   
The new Caesar's arrival the day before had been poorly received by the common populace and the aristocracy was afraid of the bad mood this had caused in the young sovereign. Everybody knew about Commodus' many vices and bad habits. Everybody knew his basest instincts had been controlled and tempered by his father's strong hand but now that the great emperor was gone no one knew what to expect from the new Caesar.  
At the moment Commodus had just finished speaking with Senator Falco, the first of the group to have gained the young man's trust, and was moving in Antonia direction. She saw him and braced herself.  
Commodus stopped in front of her, his face a mixture of expectation and arrogance and Antonia reacted by bowing and reaching for his hand, which was promptly offered. She kissed his ring and then stepped back, finally looking him in his eyes.  
Commodus smiled to her, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth, "Cousin, you are a vision." he said, his lips lingering against her skin longer than "I saw you back in Germania, in that military camp, but truly the Palace is your proper environment. You are a princess and must live like one."  
"You are flattering me, Caesar." Antonia was discomfited by her cousin's behaviour. It was known, in the inner circle of the family, that Commodus was suspected of harboring incestuous thoughts about his sister, Lucilla, and Antonia's internal alarm was warning her to be alert and avoid encouraging him to feel the same for her- especially now that Commodus was now so powerful.  
"Ah, Cousin, don't call me that! You have always called me Commodus. And no- I am not flattering you, it is the truth."  
It was then that Quintus arrived. He had observed the scene from afar , noticing how his wife stiffened upon hearing the emperor' words and he decided to offer his support.....or to ask it of her, since he was feeling distinctly ill at easy in that room full of senators and politicians. He was a soldier and he was not practiced in idle chit-chat.   
Upon seeing him Commodus' face lost its cheerfulness even though he continued to smile.  
"Caesar," said Quintus bowing his head.  
"General." There was a moment of silence then the emperor went on, "This is quite a different occasion from the last time the saw each other."  
"That's true, sire."  
"I was telling your wife she is born to live in a palace in Rome.....You on the other hand, seem more suited to…other places. You seem uncomfortable here." Commodus' calculating eyes bored into Quintus' skin.  
"Your Majesty is very keen. Yes, I am not used to this," Quintus waved a hand to indicate the room and the crowd surrounding them, "But with time and practice I hope to adapt."  
"So you plan to stay in Rome? Well, I might have an assignement for you somewhere else." Commodus quickly reaffirmed his superiority and Quintus bowed his head. It was clear that the exetended leave he had been granted by Marcus Aurelius was to be considered nonexistent. The general shivered at the thought of obeying the younger man's whims.  
"Oh, Commodus, you can't say that!," Antonia exclaimed, "You just said I belong to the palace but how can I stay here if you send my husband away? You know I follow him everywhere."  
Commodus forced a smile, "Such loyality! Oh well, Antonia, I don't want to see you leave so soon, so your husband may consider himself on leave...Or do you want to be discharged and begin a political career? I could use a family member in the Senate."  
"Your Majesty is very kind, but I have yet to decide. I just returned from over seven years of constant war and I am looking for a bit of peace."  
"Uhm...." Commodus was about to continue when Lucilla arrived in the hall and his his attention instantly shifted to her. Without saying another word Caesar walked away, leaving the married couple alone. Antonia and Quintus shared a look. Both of them realized that the conversation with Caesar had more then one meaning and that Commodus had something in his mind-but neither of them knew what it was. The only thing they knew was they had to be very careful with their words and actions.  
  
3  
  
Five days later Quintus was in the garden studying the bookkeeping of his family's grain-trading firm, while Appius and Titus while played among the flowers, when a servant appeared at his side.  
"Domine?"   
"Yes?" Quintus raised his eyes from the scroll.  
"There are some men who wish to see you, master Quintus. They are soldiers and they claim to be from your legion."  
Quintus' curiousity was immediately piqued, "Call the nurse and tell her to tend to the children." He said, and then he stood up and went to the atrium were he found his guests waiting. He recognized one of the faces at once: it was Faustus, a veteran of so many campaigns that Quintus had know him since the beginning of his career.  
"Faustus!" he called out surprised.  
The three soldiers snapped at-atttention. "General!"  
Quintus smiled, "At ease, at ease," he exclaimed, squeezing their hands in turn. "What are you doing here?"  
"Since the Felix Legions are now stationed in Ostia we decided to visit. I hope that we are not intruding, Sir." Faustus was clearly the spokeman for the trio.  
"Of course not! It is pleasure to see you…but I did not know the Felix had been recalled from Germania.....When did you arrived?"  
"Six days ago, Sir."  
"And how were you able to find my villa?"  
"I visited it once when General Claudius was alive and I remembered which hill it was on. Then we asked around."  
Quintus smiled again and motioned with his hand, "Come with me, let's drink have a drink together." Conscious that the legionaries would be unconfortable in the plush surroundings of the triclinium, he led them in the library.  
"Make yourselves at home, " he invited them,then ordered a sevant to bring them wine and something to eat.  
The three soldiers sat carefully on the chairs and looked around, admiring the bookbins stuffed with volumens and the fine style of the furniture.  
The slave returned with the wine and the food and soon the room was filled with the sounds of chewing and drinking. However, Quintus sensed that something was not right: his guests seemed ill at ease - too much so to be merely attributable simply to their foreign surroundings. After studying them from behind the rim of his cup he said abruptly, "What's going on?"  
The three men exchanged a glance and Faustus began to speak, "The real reason of this visit, Sir, is to ask you if you have news about General Maximus."  
Quintus was taken aback, "Maximus?"  
"Yes, since you are such good friends, we thought you would know why he left so suddenly.."  
Quintus shook his head. "Stop. I don't understand. What are you talking about?"  
"The soldiers were told that the general left Germania for Hispania the night after your departure- the night in which the Emperor died. But I...we....found it a bit strange. He didn't tell anyone in the ranks that he was leaving, and the general left behind his horses and his dog and the whole army know how much he loves them...." Faustus stopped and looked hopefully to his superior.  
Quintus rubbed his brow and commented, "The night after the battle, during the celebration for the victory, Maximus told Valerius and I that he wanted to return home. So, yes, he is probably in Hispania now."  
Faustus was not convinced, "But then why did he leave the animals behind? And why depart so suddenly.....He did not even tell us goodbye."  
"I don't know. Maybe he received a message which obliged made him leave in hurry. And maybe his horses were too tired or lame....I don't know:" Quintus tried to tranquilize the men but the more he pondered the facts, the more he found them strange. There was another moment of silence in which the legionaries exchanged another glance and and Quintus saw Faustus nod energetically to one of the other men, a young liutenant.  
"Is there something else?" he asked.  
Faustus nodded, "Yes, sir." then he turned to the younger man at his left, "Tell him Atticus."  
The soldier seemed embarassed at first then he composed himself and staring straight at Quintus began to speak. "Sir, I hope you won't judge me too harshly, but a few hours after the General's departure was announced to us, while I had some freetime, I wandered near the General's tent. Since we already knew he had left behid the horses and the dog and since speculations were running in the camp, I went inside the tent to search for evidence of a hurried departure or something like that. It was while I was looking in his bedroom that I saw them...." the soldier stopped to talk and turned away, "I hope you will not be angry with me but I just could not believe he had left them there. While working as his scribe I saw how much he cared or them and...."  
"Atticus! Stop to ramble and tell what you saw!"   
The liutenant reached under his armor and pulled out a small leather pouch. He gave it to his superior and said, "This is what I found, Sir."  
Quintus quickly opened the pouch and his breath caught in his throat, recognizing instantly the objects inside. They figures of Maximus' wife and son -plus his silver ring. Feeling his face pale, Quintus turned turned the items over again and again in his hand. He knew how much Maximus treasured the figurines, and he knew that his friend would never, ever, go away and leave them behind. Something had happened in Germania- and whatever it was he felt was no good.  
Quintus put away the figurines and the ring and then looked at his guests. "Let's begin again from the start. I want to know EVERYTHING happened in the camp the day before Maximus' disappearence. I want to know how and who told you about his departure. And I want to know the circumstances of Marcus Aurelius' death."  
The glimmer in their superior's eyes comforted the soldiers, "So, Sir, you think there is something strange too...?" Faustus asked.  
"Yes, something is very wrong and I want you to help me figure out what it is."  
Faustus nodded and began to talk...  
  
4  
  
The road was deserted as Quintus began to walk the last three hundred yards which separated him from his villa. It was already dark and he was tired. His two-day trip to Ostia, to visit the Felix Legions camp and to question his must trusted officer about Maximus' sudden disappareance had left him with more questions than answers. The only thing which was certain, at least for him, was the fact his friend had been forced to leave unwillingly. It was the only way he could explain why he had left behind his family idols. That thought raised many other puzzles to his mind: who had forced Maximus? And why? Where was his friend now? Was he still alive? Quintus shivered at the thought. The general heard some steps behind him and turned to look around. In the light cast by torches hanging from the walls he only saw an eldery couple entering the gates of their villa. They waved to him and he returned to the gesture, before turning again. "Don't be so paranoid," he chided himself, shaking his head. It was his exahustion that made him behave in such way.   
Once more he heard light noises behind his back but this time he refused to turn, concentrating on the petition he wanted to write to promote the construction of another public stable on the Palatin hill, to be used by the inhabitants whose villas were near the hilltop. It was stupid that he had to walk so long to reach his home after leaving his horse in the stable.  
The noises behind him repeated, this time nearer, and Quintus felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. It was a sure sign of trouble, and without thinking his right hand rushed to the hilt of his sword. He barely had time to unsheath it when they were upon him.  
In the scarse light Quintus made out the shapes of five attackers, all dressed in dark clothes which made blended with the night. Guided more by instinct then from his sight, he began to parry they blows and to counter-attack. The men were all skilled with swords but still no match for a veteran soldier like Quintus. One of them was able to graze the General's arm with his sword before falling at his feet with the others. At last, it was finished.  
Quintus breathed hard as he looked around him. The road was still deserted, nobody han come outside to see what was going on. Quickly he took a torch from the nearby wall and lowered it to illuminate his fallen opponents.  
They were all clothed as beggars, with torn woolen cloaks covering them from head to feet, but they were too expert in the use swords to be mistaken for mere thieves.  
Quintus knelt down to examine the men closer and pushed away the capes. He gasped when his fingers met the cool metal of a cuirass. He had felt it resistance when he struck swordblows against his opponents' chests, but he had not realized why until then.  
His attackers were soldiers. No, he corrected quickly seeing their black uniforms hidden by the cloaks, they are Praetorians: The imperial bodyguard and licensed assassins.  
Quintus stood up. Why had they attacked him? Had they mistaken him for someone else? No, that was highly unlikely. At last, Quintus remembered a strange sensation he had felt back in the army camp in Ostia....For just a moment he had thought someone was spying him. He had dismissed it as the product of an overactive imagination.....but what if it were true? What if this attack was related to his questions about Maximus' departure and Marcus Aurelius' death? And why should Commodus be worried about his actions? Did he have something to hide? The questions were crowding his mind but the street was not the place to ponder them. Quintus could feel the blood of his arm coating the cloth og his tunic. He needed to go home to tend the wound. Keeping the torch in one hand and his sword in the other, Quintus walked the remaining distance and relaxed only when he heard the gates close behind him.  
  
*  
  
The servant opened the door at the first knock, a sure sign the household was waiting for him to return. Quintus slipped inside quickly. The slave looked at his unsheated sword and bloody arm with alarm but the general quieted him before he could ask any questions, "Shhhh, I don't want the domina to know. I will go in the study, bring me warm water, some linen and a clean tunica."  
The servant nodded and walked away as Quintus put away his sword and hung the torch on the wall.  
He went to the study and stripped his armor and weapons, then rolled his sleeve up to take a closer look at his wound. He was still examining it, prodding the flesh for signs of infection when the door opened. He raised his eyes expecting the servant carrying the items he had requested but instead his glance met Antonia's. Behind her shoulder he could see the apologetic face of the steward.   
His wife eyes stared at him for a few seconds when she turned and plucking the requested items from the servant's arm she dismissed him with a smile before closing the door. After that she walked to her husband and asked, "Would you please tell me what's going on?"  
Quintus signed, dropping to sit in a chair. Antonia's tone was all businnes- a sure sign that she was furious. He couldn't lie to her now, even if he were the sort of man prone to doing it, which he was not. He started to speak but Antonia stopped him, "Let's tend the cut first, then we will talk."  
Quintus nodded and removed his tunica. With few precise movements, Antonia cleaned the gash, covered it with a healing salve and bandaged it carefully. Quintus could feel by the gentleness of her touch that even if she was angry, she was also worried for him....  
In the end he put on the clean tunic the servant had brought and patting the chair in front of him, invited Antonia to sit. He did not relish the idea of disclosing to her his suspicions but he respected her too much to do otherwise. He wanted to know her opinion about the matter as well. So he began, "As you know, a few days ago, three soldiers from the Felix Legions came to visit me. " He stopped and Antonia nodded, encouraging him to go on, "Well, it was not a social visit.....They told me that...."  
Quintus went on for a long time, telling her everything the legionaries had told to him. He also told her about his trip to Ostia, his investigations in the camp, his feeling of being spied and finally told her about the attack in the street and the discovery that his assassins-to-be were Praetorians.  
Antonia's face became whiter and whiter as the tale unfolded and in the end she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked with concern, touching her hand.  
Antonia shook her head, "No. You have just given life to the worst nightmare I ever had."  
Quintus frowned, "What are you saying? I don't understand."  
"Oh Quintus, don't you remember what I told you back in Germania? When I told you about the possibility my uncle wanted to leave the throne to Maximus instead of Commodus?"  
"Yes......"   
"Well, consider the events you related to me: Marcus Aurelius died and Maximus disappeared in the same night- And we know he did not go away on his own free will. Think about this: what would do if you were the natural heir to the throne and discovered that your father intended to leave it to another man, a man with the loyality of the army?"  
Quintus looked at her, "I would eliminate that man without alerting the troops, because I could never sentence him in front of his own men.....they would not permit it."  
"Exactly." Antonia closed her eyes again and when she opened them they were full of tears, "I am afraid Maximus is dead by now." she whispered, mourning the passing of a man who had been like a big brother when she was a child.   
Quintus swallowed hard. He had reached the same conclusion but hearing it from his wife's mouth, made it seem more real.  
Antonia brushed away the moisture from her eyes and murmured, "Do you think Commodus killed his own father?"  
Her husband sucked in his breath. He desperately wanted to tell her 'no', and to deny the fact they were now living under the rule of a patricide, but in his heart he knew that was very possible. "I think it is very likely."  
Silence fell in the room for many minutes as they were each lost in their own thoughts.   
In the end Antonia spoke again, "We must talk to Lucilla, she surely knows what happened in Germania."  
"But why?"  
"Quintus, you have not been to the Palace since the banquet but I have. I can tell you that my cousin is scared to death of her brother. However, she is a strong woman and loves her son as much as we love Titus and Appius. We must find a way to discover if the opposition to the emperor is organizing something and add our participation to it."  
"Antonia!! You can't be serious!" Quintus' voice was shocked.  
"Oh, my love, " she said, "You don't know Commodus as I do......Now that he has marked you, he will keep us under strict survelliance and will try to find a way to eliminate you. We must act before he does, it is the only way."  
"No! We will leave Rome- go far from him and...." Quintus' voice sounded uncertain at best. Deep inside he knew what she was saying was true but he could not accept the risk such a conduct would involve for his family.  
"You know Commodus won't let us go, not now that he knows -- or suspects -- we know what he did in Germania."  
They both fell silent again, contemplating what they had to do.   
"How do you propose to contact Lucilla?" Quintus asked.  
"She has yet to meet Titus and Appius....Maybe we can invite her and Lucius, so that the boy can meet his little cousins?"  
Quintus nodded. "It is a good idea. I will stay inside the villa for the next few days so Commodus can think that,if even I survived the ambush, I am too scared to go outside. Maybe we can spread the rumor that I am wounded more seriously than I am."  
"Good idea. I will write a letter to Lucilla first thing tomorrow. I will ask her to come as soon as possible."   
Antonia and Quintus looked at each other. They were both afraid but having elaborated a plan not only made them feel less powerless but gave them a sense of purpose. Without adding another word, Quitus stood up and took Antonia's hand. Together they left the study headed to their bedroom, even if they both suspected sleep would be very elusive that night.  
  
5  
  
Two days later Lucilla arrived at the Claudii's villa with Lucius, escorted by six Praetorians.  
Antonia went to great them in the atrium. "Cousin, " she began bowing respectfully, "you honour my home with your presence."   
"Oh, Antonia, please! Let's forget the protocol for today! Let's pretend we are still the two little girls who chased each other in the palace hallways." Lucilla smiled but the look did not reach her eyes.  
Antonia took note of the expression and replied, "As you wish, Lucilla." then she turned to the boy beside her who was patiently waiting for the greetings to end. "So Lucius, are you ready to meet your cousins? They are little but quite handful."  
The young prince smiled, "I am ready, aunt Antonia and more then curious. I never saw twins before."  
"Oh. Well it will be an interesting experience. Now go, Publius will led you to the nursery."   
Antonia motioned to a servant who approached the boy and bowed, "Would you please follow me little master?"  
The two women watched as Lucius disappeared into the house and then Antonia said, "Would you care to visit my garden before we sit down to talk?" Both her tone and her gesture of taking her cousin by the elbow showed it was not a question.   
Raising an eyebrow, Lucilla answered, "Good idea."  
"I don't think we need your guards to follow us," added Antonia, once more convening a stubler message.  
"Right." the Augusta turned to the Praetorians and ordered, "You wait here. I am sure lady Clara will be glad to offer you something to drink."  
"Of course!" Antonia clapped her hands and a servant appeared carrying a tray with wine and cups.  
The two women walked to the garden but it was clear flowers were the last thing on their minds. However they went through the motions of admiring them until Lucilla whispered softly, "So, what is the real reason behind this invitation?"  
"It concerns my husband."  
"Your husband?" Lucilla's tone clearly showed that she did not understand.  
"A Few days ago he was attacked in the street by five men who looked like beggars. However they were not...they were Praetorians."  
"What?!" Lucilla paled but aside from that she did not betray her shock, "Do you know why?"  
"We suspect it was because Quintus had been meeting members of the Felix Legions and he had just returned from visiting the troops in Ostia." Antonia explained in a low voice.  
Lucilla was silent while she digested the information and then asked, "Why he was visiting the army?"  
"Because the soldiers are concerned about the fate of their commander, General Maximus."  
This time the emperor's sister could not control her reaction. Her hands convulsed around the rose that she was pretending to admire and pricked her finger on its thorns.  
"So they are right, aren't they?" Antonia commented, "Something happened to Maximus...." she knew about the past relationship between her cousin and her friend.  
"Yes...He is....he ..is."  
"Dead." A male voice completed the sentence and Lucilla turned quickly, meeting Quintus' eyes. He was standing behind a hedge of rosebushes , which hid him from the Praetorians standing in the atrium.  
"Yes," confirmed Lucilla as she regained her breath, "Commodus had him killed the night my father....died." Her hesitation on saying the last word betrayed her real thoughts: Marcus Aurelius had not died naturally but, as Quintus and Antonia had suspected time, he had been murdered. And they knew by whom.  
Silence fell among the trio as Antonia still feigned looking at the plants. Finally Quintus spoke again, "Lucilla, I need to know if you are aware of the existence of some organized opposition to your brother." The Augusta stiffened at his words and he went on, "I am a marked man, Lucilla. This house is under constant watch because Commodus suspects or knows that I am aware of what happened in Germania. I think he is afraid I might spread the news among the soldiers of the Felix Legions and cause a revolt. I...I feel my days are numbered if I don't act sooner than him. People are getting arrested and killed for faults less grave than mine. I need your help....I need to do something to protect my Rome and my family....We both know the fate reservered for the sons of a traitor..."  
Lucilla closed her eyes. Quintus and Antonia saw her fight within herself. They knew it was not easy for her to make the decision to trust them. They had uncovered their cards but had nothing to lose doing so, they were already in trouble. For the Augusta it was different. To admit that she knew the persons opposed to her brother -- and thereby saying that she was one of them -- was a big leap of faith. In the end she opened her eyes and nodded, "Let it be. You are right, there are politicians who are planning an opposition to Commodus. I will meet two of them the day of the Ides. You can come with me. We will meet at the foot of the Viminal hill, near the statue of Venus, two hours after sunset. You will recorgnize me because I will nod four times, while you will reply by making the military salute. All right?"  
"All right. Thank you Augusta." Said Quintus.  
Lucilla smiled bitterly, "Don't thank me. We are all on the same boat, living in a nightmare because of fear for our sons. The least we can do is to help each other and pray we are not signing our death warrants."  
Husband and wife nodded, acknowledging the risks they were all running. Quintus then said, "Now you both should leave the garden and go to see the boys, before the Praetorians begin to suspect something." and without another word he disappeared between the bushes.  
Antonia ansd Lucilla turned around and feigning a cheerfulness they did not fell returned inside the house.  
  
6  
  
Hildegarde shifted her weight impatiently as they waited for the docking to be complete. She was impatient to be on solid land again and, more importantly, she could not wait to explore the bustling little port where they had landed. Ordinarily, the sight of so many people and buildings- which only underscored how very small the Roman castrum (heretofore her idea of a true "city) had been- would have been daunting. With Maximus beside her, however, she felt only curiosity.  
"What are those?" She asked, pointing to some strange, horse-like creatures being unloaded on one of the slips further down the quai.  
"Camels." Maximus replied. "They came from Africa. They live in deserts."  
"And those?" she gestured toward a cart of amphorae.  
Maximus squinted to read the writing on their sides- no small feat at such a distance. "Wine, I think."  
"Ugh." Hildegarde groaned. After weeks of the Roman concoction, she felt she would do almost anything for a glass of sweet beer.  
With a clamour, the plank was lowered at last, and the occupants of the craft queued to disembark. Maximus leaned down and picked up their sparse belongings- a small chest containing clothes that Fabius had lent them, and a bag full of coins that he had retrieved from Selenes kitchen garden and money he had received for the sale of their horse when they left Hispania.  
Hildegarde skipped beside him impatiently as they moved along the wooden walkway, settling their feet on the dock at last.  
Without thinking, she put her hand against Maximus' forearm to steady herself. After so many days on the boat, the stillness of the ground was disorienting. The general smiled, feeling it too. "It will wear off in a moment. Come."  
Maximus steered her toward a set of low buildings on the closest row. "Let's get something to eat, and then find a place to stay."  
  
*****  
  
Two hours later, they emerged from a little cookshop with their bellies full and their feet rested. They had lingered for a long time as Maximus inquired of the shopkeeper of events in Italy since he had left. Hildegarde caught only smatterings of the conversation- her Latin was still very slight- but she could read in his expression the displeasure that he experienced at the man's words.  
"What is it?" She asked in Quadi as they walked onto the street.  
"Commodus had declared himself Caesar." He said stiffly. "It is worse than I suspected."  
"What are you going to do?" Hildegarde wanted to ask, but she bit her tongue.  
The Spaniard looked her over carefully. "Are you terribly tired?"  
She shrugged. Traveling was always fatiguing, but it was more a mental exhaustion than a physical one.   
"I want to start for Rome today. There isn"t much time." Quickly, Maximus explained what they would do. They would hitch a ride with a group of merchants setting off for the capitol. They would probably have to walk at least part of the way, but they would have company (and, more importantly for their purposes) they would be able to disappear into a large group and learn about the city without drawing attention.  
"That sounds fine."   
"Good. They aren"t leaving for a few hours. We can go to the marketplace for a while if you like."  
Hildegarde nodded her assent, and the pair set off through the maze of stalls and storefronts that wound its way through the center of town. Maximus had fun explaining different items to his companion. She had never seen most of the items, and even the people looked strange to her. It was almost possible to imagine himself back to a time long ago, a more innocent time, when he had set off as a young soldier, never knowing the sacrifices he would be called to make for his country.  
"Thank you..." Maximus said, handing a coin to one of the merchants and pocketing two pieces of the fruit that Hildegarde had selected. He glanced at the sky. "It"s time to go."  
"Will we get there tonight?"  
"No...but soon...Hopefully we'll stop in a town with a Inn." He said, realizing for the first time that they lacked blankets or a tent.   
Hildegarde shrugged. "As warm as it is, it won't really matter."  
"General?"  
Maximus' face went ghostly pale at the sound of a man hailing him from across the plaza. "General? General Maximus, sir!"  
"Run." Maximus growled, pushing Hildegarde forward so violently that she nearly fell. He caught the back of her arm and drug him behind her toward one of the alleys on the perimeter of the space.  
The German struggled to find her feet again, and then she wrenched herself free. "What is it?" She asked. "Do you dislike that man?"  
"No." Maximus panted, finally stopping behind a corner and glancing around to see if they had been followed. "I mean...yes... I mean..." he took a gulping breath. "We can't afford for ANYONE to know that I'm here. It isn't safe. Commodus must know that the men he sent to kill me didn"t return alive. He could be looking....better to be safe than sorry."  
"Alright." She answered noncomittaly.  
Maximus met her gaze evenly and then turned back toward the edge of town where they were to meet their party. Although his face was serene, his mind was burning with a question: what were the Felix Legions doing in Ostia?  
  
*****  
  
The little caravan started for Rome, pausing for the evening outside a tiny village that made its living as a stopover point for persons traveling in and out of the city. Although the trip could be made in a day, the merchants were in little hurry- carts and other wheeled conveyances were not allowed on the city streets during the day, so they had no reason to arrive before nightfall.  
Maximus was clearly impatient to arrive in the capitol, but unwilling to shed their cover before reaching the city.  
At last, they came to the final hill before their destination, and both parties gasped in wonder at the jewel that filled the valley of the Tiber and its surrounding hills. Although Maximus was more prepared than Hildegarde, it was his first sight of Rome as well, and it took his breath away. Now, more than ever, he understood the dream that his men had fought for. The thought that such a magnificent space could have been created by mere mortals was dizzying.  
Finally gathering their bearings, the pair bid farewell to their companions, who were resting the horses for their night of labor, and headed for a pair of gates that guarded the towering city walls.  
  
7  
  
The afternoon of the Ides, Quintus mingled with a group of faithful servants, all dressed like him with a dark cloaks which covered their bodies and heads and left the house. He was sure the persons surveilling the house knew by now that the family routinely conceded a few hours of freedom to its slaves and he hoped they were accostumed to this tradition, so that they wouldn't bother to follow the little group that walked away from the villa chatting and laughing.  
Quintus stayed with the others until they reached the end of the hill and mingled with the people crowding the streets near the forum and the Colosseum. Then they separated with the promise to regroup later in a nearby tavern. The servants did not really know what was going on; however they knew their master had been a victim of an ambush some days before and they thought he wanted to avoid another. Anyway they were more interested in their hours of freedom.  
Quintus watched them leave and then walked through the roads until he arrived to the beginning of the Viminal hill. He looked for Venus statue and then dropped to sit on the ground near it, assuming the stance of a beggar asking for money. He just hoped the wait was not going to be too long.  
  
*****  
  
Maximus tried to act as normal as possible as he and Hildegarde stepped between the helmeted guards- city police- who watched the gate. There was no reason that they should be looking for him. General Maximus was reported to be dead, but still he wasn't willing to take any chances.  
"Where will we go?" the German woman said, surprised that she hadn't thought to ask the question before.   
"To Quintus and Antonia." Maximus said firmly. They were the only choice, really- the only people that he knew would help him. He closed his eyes, hoping that he could remember the address. True, he could probably ask anyone on the streets- they would know the Emperor's niece- no, cousin, he reminded himself, forcing his brain to accept that Marcus Aurelius was really dead and Commodus installed in his place- but he didn't want to risk drawing attention to himself.  
They walked for what felt like miles. Even the trek from Ostia had been less wearying. During their journey inland from the sea, cool breezes and pleasant conversation had passed the time and distracted them from their exhaustion. Now, dodging crowds and endless, and the impossibly crooked streets magnified the endurance required to navigate the distance.   
At last, they arrived at the foot of the Palatine. Maximus swore under his breath as his vision was caught by the Magnificent palace at its peak. Nero, one of the early emperors, had razed all of the private residences on the Palatine (and most of the rest of the city if historical gossipmongers were to be believed) to make way for the structure. It was massive, and breathtaking. It seemed to fill the sky as though it had been built on clouds, high, narrow staircases leading back to the rest of the world below. Maximus noted that one of them led directly to the Circus Maximus- or what he thought was the famous racetrack- and another to the far end of the forum.  
"Are we lost?"   
Maximus blinked at the sound of Hildegarde's voice. She had been silent for most of the day. "No. It is here." He gestured halfway up the hill, to a more modest (at least relative to the Imperial palace) dwelling tucked behind a plain limestone facade. "That one. I recognize the Claudius crest." Maximus craned his neck, trying to see what lay beyond the house. "We probably shouldn't risk going through the front door. Antonia is, technically, an imperial herself. I don't know who might be calling at any given time....its not worth taking a chance."  
Hildegarde nodded.   
"Let's go into the alley behind the houses and wait for some of the other servants to arrive. Perhaps it would be less noticible if we slipped in with them."  
"Alright."  
Hildegarde followed Maximus behind the house. He checked carefully to make sure that they weren't being watched. He noticed a man at the neighboring villa sweeping dust off a back porch very slowly and hesitated before moving forward. "It isn't going to work" He said at last. "I have another plan."  
Hildegarde looked at Maximus expectantly, wondering what he intended to do..  
Maximus swallowed, wondering what his plan was as well.  
"We'll wait here." he said quickly, gesturing toward a little bench near the street. "Did you bring the food from the inn this morning?"  
Hildegarde nodded.   
"Good. We'll pretend that we are eating a snack together..."  
Settling down on the bench, Maximus took his own advice, grateful that he had taken Fabius' advice and borrowed some of the man's better clothes. Although his toga had neither a senatorial or equestrian stripe, no one questioned his right to remain on the hill near the palace. No doubt they thought that he was a rich merchant, slipped away from his wife for a snack  
and pleasant conversation with a slave, or one of the higher-priced prostitutes that owned little "clubs" in the surrounding neighborhoods.  
  
  
8  
  
It had been dark for almost two hours when a group of hooded figured approached the statue. Quintus stood up, shaking away the stiffness from his muscles and walked to them. One of the figures, which seemed smaller than the others, turned to look at him and nodded four times. It was Lucilla's signal. Quintus replied with his own signal, touching his chest with his right fist. The hooded figure nodded again and motioned him to join the group. The general walked near the Augusta and together they walked along the Vicus Patricii until they stopped in front of a big villa.  
A white haired man with a dignified air, opened the door at the first knock and motioned them inside.   
Lucilla pushed away her hood and let the older man kiss her on her cheeks. Then she turned to Quintus and said, "Gracchus, this is general Quintus Clarus, my cousin Antonia's husband. He is here to help us. Quintus, this is Senator Gracchus."  
Quintus pushed away his cape and bowed to the Senator, "Sir."  
"General." They shooked hands while Gracchus studied the new comer closely. He had been informed of his presence, and he knew Lucilla trusted the man, but still he had to make his own determination. When he was satisfied, the Senator motioned them to follow him up a short staircase, into a richly furnished room where another man was alreay waiting.  
"General, this is Senator Gaius. Gaius, this is General Clarus." Gracchus introduced the two men quickly before offering the newcomers something to drink.   
Both Lucilla and Quintus accepted a cup of wine and then she sat on a chair while he leant against a wall.  
There was a moment of silence when Lucilla began to speak, "They're arresting scholars now, anyone who dares to speak out, even satirists and chronicles."  
"And mathematicians, " added Gaius, shaking his head in disgust. "And all to feed the arena. The Senate did not approve martial law. This reign of terror is entirely the Praetorians. I am afraid to go out after dark...."  
"You should be more afraid of your activities during the day." commented Gracchus, who was standing and sipping his wine, "The senate is full of his spies led by that whoremaster, Falco. But what is in his mind? That's what I trouble myself with. He spend all his days singuraly obsessed planning the festival to honour your father. He neglects even the most fundamental tasks of government. So just what is he planning?"  
Quintus noticed how nobody ever metioned the words 'Caesar' or 'Emperor' or the name Commodus. They alway said 'he'.   
"And what pays for it?" asked Gaius, "These daily games are costing a fortune. Yet we have no new taxes." he seemed puzzled.  
Lucilla's soft voice cut the air, "The future. The future pays for it. He started selling the grain reserves."  
"This can't be true!" Gaius gave voice to everyone's shock.  
The Augusta stood up with a cup in her hand and said again, "He's selling Rome's reserves of grain. The people will be starving in two years. I hope they are enjoying the games because soon enough they'll be dead because of them."  
Gaius rose from his chair as well and walked toward Gracchus, "Rome must know this."   
"Yes," added Quintus.  
"And how? He is going to dissolve the senate. And who will tell them before it's too late? You, Gracchus? You Gaius? Will you make a speech on the floor of the senate denouncing my brother and then see your family in the Colosseum?" Lucilla sounded desperate, "Who'd dare?" She walked away from the men and turning her back tothem she went on, " I have been living in a prison of fear every day because my son is the heir to the throne." She was clearly crying and Quintus felt her fear echo his own for Appius' and Titus' safety.   
Lucilla stopped to crying and then added cold, "He must die."   
The senators seemed shocked by her words, even though they had already reached the same conclusion.  
"Arramus and the Praetorians would simply seize the control themselves..." said Gaius.  
"No, cut off the head and the snake cannot strike." objected Lucilla.  
"Lucilla, Gaius is right. Until we can neutralize the Praetorians, we can archive nothing."  
"I will neutralize the Praetorians." Quintus said firmly, walking away from the wall.  
"You?" asked the two senators at unison. "How?"  
"With the Felix Legions camped in Ostia. The men will follow me when I tell the what he did to their commander and his family."  
Gracchus narrowed his eyes, not really sure he could trust that man, who, being married to a member of the imperial family might only want the opportunity to seize the power himself, "Why do you want to take such a risk?"  
"I will do it for Rome and for my family: I don't want to see them meet the same end as General Maximus', family."  
Gracchus was still not truly convinced of the plan, "First we need him to loose popularity. As long as the people support him we are voices without steel. We are air. But if we were able to make the people hate him..."  
"Then let's do it! Let's inform the mob of how he is paying the games! There must be a way to do so without revealing our involvement." Quintus' voice was passionate. He was a soldier not a politician and he needed to act, not to talk.  
Gracchus looked at him squarely then nodded curtly, "I will think of something. Now it is better if you go home, " he said turning to Lucilla, "You have been away from the palace for too long."  
The young woman nodded and quickly put on her cloak. Quintus did the same and with few words of farwell, they left the villa and walked into the street, separating at once, even though they were both heading to the Palatine hill.  
As Quintus proceded along the almost deserted roads, to reach the tavern were his servants where waiting, he thought about his idea to march on Rome with the Felix Legions. He wondered about the possibility of doing so...He had no doubt the men would follow him but he was not sure he had enough charisma and fame to stop other legions commanders who might decide to do the same. In all his military career, his name had always been associated with a greater one, first General Claudius', then Maximus'. He had loved working with them, for them, never being envious of their accomplishments but instead feeling proud of them for what they achieved together. However now he was afraid his lack of a 'great' name might be dangerous for Rome: he did not want to risk a civil war.   
If only Maximus were still alive......the problem would be resolved because nobody would dare to oppose him.  
"But he is dead, "thought Quintus, "and you must find a solution by yourself."  
  
9  
  
They were nearly finished with their food when Maximus caught sight of movement at the top of the hill. It was nearly sunset, and the streets were clearing of pedestrians. Although not technically allowed until night, the little wagon that collected rubbish from the alleys behind the elegant mansions had begun to roll down from the palace. Maximus watched it for a moment- the men in the front cart would load two barrels of refuse onto the sled and then, walking to the second cart, would replace them with two empty vessels that they rolled off the back.   
It was a slow process.  
The general watched them complete the cycle three times, and then he took Hildegarde's hand.  
"Come." He said quickly, stilling her when she started to throw her remaining foodscraps to the birds.  
They found a little path between two of the houses and walked toward thecarts. The men eyed them suspiciously.  
"Can we toss these on?" Maximus said, innocently, walking toward the garbage laden vessel.  
The men shared a look and then shrugged.   
Maximus waved his hand in thanks, and then moved closer as the men turned away. He waited until they had gotten to the doorstep of the house and then gestured sharply to the empty barrels. "Get in one of the fourth barrels from the back." He ordered, sprinting forward himself. He and Hildegarde barely had time to hide themselves and pull the lids closed before they  
heard the voices of the men returning. The cart creaked forward another thirty yards and then stopped. There was a thud as two fresh barrels were rolled from the cart, and then the cycle repeated.  
Again.  
Again.  
Again  
And then Maximus felt himself rolling forward. He clenched his teeth sharply as the wooden container struck the ground, craning his ears to hear that Hildegarde did not cry out. She was silent. Were they still together?  
Maximus felt a wave of foreboding, but tried to push it away. Distantly, he made out the fading groan of wagon wheels moving away. He was about to call out to the German when he felt movement again.  
"They must have filled these barrels with lead!" A voice- startlingly close- said with annoyance.   
"And they aren't getting any lighter! Hurry, get them in the house. I need help with the master's dinner."  
"What did they leave inside this time?"   
For a sickening second, Maximus thought they would look inside, but they did not. The barrel was lifted by two groaning slaves, carried, and finally settled down.  
Silence.  
"Hildegarde?" Maximus whispered after a long pause.  
"I'm here" she answered.  
"Good."  
Maximus waited just a moment, and then he pressed the lid off the barrel. He blinked, expecting light, but finding only blackness. It was several long moments before his eyes adjusted enough to see the shadow of a barrel next to him. "Hildegarde?"  
"In here. The lid is stuck."  
With Maximus' help, the covering was pried free, and Maximus helped her out.   
"Where are we?"  
The general looked around. "In the pantry. They must keep the barrels here until they need to throw things away."  
Hildegarde nodded and then gestured toward the wooden door. "Should we go?"  
  
*****  
  
Quintus' return was accomplished without problems. He found his servants waiting for him in the tavern and together with them they returned to the villa.   
When he finally took leave of the servants in the back hallway, the main house was dark and silent. The children were in bed, but he could sense, even before entering his empty bedchamber, that Antonia was not asleep.  
He found her, at last, in the library, staring at a pile of dusty scrolls.   
Hearing movement behind her, she quickly bent forward, giving the appearance that she was engrossed in thought, but Quintus was not fooled.   
"Antonia." He said softly, stepping behind her and sliding his arms around her shoulders.  
She straightened immediately, turning her head to meet him with a look that was equal parts excitement and relief. "Quintus!"  
"Yes...." He kissed her shoulderblade, and then the back of her neck before he allowed her to turn around.  
"Oh, Quintus..." tears brimmed at the edge of her eyes, and she did not bother to hide them. "You are back. I was so afraid..."  
"Nonsense." He said, trying to smile. "My Antonia isn't afriad of anything..."  
"You're wrong."  
The choking quality of her voice made a lump in his throat and he fell silent, any pretense of a joke abandoned. "Shh...shh..." he comforted. "I am alright. We were not seen. I am safe."  
Antonia laid her head against his chest. "You are late."  
"Yes. We were delayed on the way home. One of the servants didn't meet us and-" he spoke quickly to appease the look of alarm in Antonia's eyes. "It is alright. He was only drunk. He stumbled in eventually..."  
Antonia nodded, trying to regain something of her composure. "What did they say?"  
"Lucilla and the Senators?"  
"Yes."  
With a sigh, Quintus repeated the plan. Antonia gasped aloud at Lucilla's comments about her brother. "Die? But..."  
Quintus frowned. "Surely you agree, Antonia...surely you can see that..."  
"Yes, yes..." She murmured softly, "But I wish there was another way." The corners of her lips tugged upwards. "He was very sweet to me when were were little." She said, underscoring the fact that Antonia was closer to Commodus' age than his sister, and had known him well. "He brought me a kitten once when I was sick and-"  
"Sweet." Quintus hrumphed.  
Antonia bit her lip. "Well, he certainly paid more notice to me than some people did when I was eleven years old."  
In spite of the stress he felt, Quintus could not help but smile at Antonia's remark. "Well, my love..." He whispered, stepping behind her again so that he could thread his arms around her waist. "Some people hadn't realised yet that your tongue was ...skilled...at things other than making smart remarks."  
Tired of the terrible burden of waiting for her husband's return, Antonia willingly surrendered to Quintus' playful mood. They had done their duty for Rome today. It was time to sleep- who knew how many peaceful nights they had left.  
Quintus brushed his hand along the back of Antonia's neck, leading her to him. Their lips brushed faintly, and then he urged them closer. His wife opened her mouth slightly, and he took advantage of the opening to slide his tongue into the soft recesses.  
Antonia made a sound of approval, and set her own hands into action. They smoothed over the curve of his back, probing beneath the soft wool of the tunica to feel the hard muscles defined beneath.   
"Mmmmmmm…." Quintus sighed against her ear as her hand finally came to rest on his buttock, squeezing it playfully. "That looks like a comfortable rug…"  
Antonia glanced down at the Persian carpet that lined the floor and answered the remark with a mischievous grin. In an instant, the pair had tumbled to the ground, and they began kissing again ,carrying on as though they were still very young and carefree- as if they never had to leave the happiness that they found in each other's arms.  
The General' wife arched her back against his mouth as he kissed a trail Down her neck to the tender skin between her breasts. "It occurs to me, my love…" he said between kisses. "That is really isn't my fault that I wasn't nicer to you when you were a girl."  
"Oh?" Antonia asked, archly.  
"Yes….." Quintus lifted his hand to sweep away the fabric that covered her left breast, and then he cupped the soft mound in his hand, kneading it gently. "I don't think your father would have appreciated my idea of being nice to you…it would have been very bad for my career…." Antonia laughed, and Quintus bent to renew his caresses when a sudden sound drew his attention.  
Someone was watching them!  
  
10  
  
Maximus walked toward the opening of the pantry and pushed, a little surprised when it swung open easily. He took Hildegarde's hand and led her out of the room. As he suspected, they were standing in the middle of a large food preparation area. The sheer size of the room was startling, even to Maximus, and strained his eyes in the darkness to make out the little stoves and countertops that ranged along the walls. Business in the room had been concluded for the night. The dishes and food had been put away, and the utensils were neatly hung from pegs in the crossbeams that traversed the ceilings. A small, fire burned in one of the ovens- no doubt to provide a start for the rest of the flames in the morning, but otherwise the room was dark.  
There were several doorways that led from the room. The closest one led back outdoors, and Maximus considered the other three carefully, finally deciding on the one that would lead the deepest into the house.  
"This way." He whispered. "Be quiet." He couldn't risk getting caught and starting a scene. As far as he knew, Quintus was the only person that he could trust. He didn't want to run into any other members of the household until he knew more about what was going on.  
Leaving the kitchen, they found themselves in a plush triclinium. The room was open on one side, its filmy curtains billowing in the breeze that drifted in from the courtyard. Hildegarde shivered, and then looked to Maximus as if to say "Now what?"  
Maximus continued to walk. He didn't know the house. He had never been here before, but he did know something of the traditional structure of Roman homes. The public rooms would be centered around the atrium, while the family chambers would be around the courtyard and on the second floor.  
Still tip-toeing, he slipped through another doorway, and began walking toward a staircase, stopping as he heard voices nearby.  
"Did you hear that?" He asked.  
Hildegarde nodded, her eyes wide.  
Carefully, Maximus looked over his shoulder. The hallway that they were standing in connected the courtyard to the atrium. A single torch was burning in the wall bracket, and it was impossible to see into the little space. Who would be in the main house at this time of night?   
Hoping he knew the answer, Maximus began walking toward the light.  
On the left wall of the atrium was a tablinium. It was very dim, but peeking around the corner, Maximus could see an Oil lamp flickering on one of the tables. He started to step into the room, but then flattened as he heard another sound- incomprehensible murmuring, followed by a light laugh. Where were the voices coming? He couldn't see anyone in the room.   
Were they servants?  
Swallowing, Maximus began to back away....right into Hildegarde, who tripped and could not swallow a startled cry as she stumbled to the ground.  
There was a gasp from inside the room, a scrambling, and then a harsh "Who is it?"  
Maximus blinked in surprise, and then, experienced a rush of relief. It was Quintus' voice.  
"A friend." he said quietly, taking another step into the chamber.  
There was a moment of silence. "Maximus?" Quintus said at last, his voice strained with disbelief.  
"Yes."  
"Maximus!" Quintus grabbed the lamp and rushed forward. "But I heard that you were...."  
"Dead?" The flat, ugly word hung in the air. "You were misinformed."  
"Maximus!"  
An echoing cry of happiness floated up from the floor, and the General looked down to see Antonia, smiling widely, but looking flustered as her fingers fumbled with the clasps of her dress. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her skin was flushed. Maximus felt his own features redden as he realized what he had interrupted.  
"But how is it possible?" Quintus continued speaking. "The men in the Felix said you'd gone, and when I didn't hear from you, I suspected the worst..."  
"Commodus tried to kill me." Maximus said quickly. "But he failed. I have no doubt that he will try again if he finds me here." He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry my friend. I don't want to endanger your family, but I didn't know where else to go."  
Quintus nodded gravely. "You are welcome here. I am not very popular with the new emperor either." Quickly, Quintus recounted the attempt on his life.  
Maximus shook his head in disbelief. "What is being done?"  
"Nothing, yet. Commodus is too powerful. The headcount are enchanted with him, and the Praetorian are very loyal. Until we can separate him from one or the other, no one has any power to oppose him."  
"The army?"  
"The Felix Legions are encamped at Ostia. Commodus recalled them upon your.....departure."  
Solemnly, Maximus nodded his head.   
"But before we can use the troops we need to weaken Commodus' popularity among the mob....I just returned from a meeting with two senators and Lucilla and.."  
"Lucilla? Is she conspiring against her brother?" Maximus asked, his voice somewhere between the surprised and the relieved.  
"Yes....She is scared to death because her son is the heir to the throne ...Commodus is a lunatic, he would not think twice to eliminate the boy if he should think he was a threat to him."   
Maximus nodded: considering that Commodus had killed his own father, it was not difficult to believe he was more than capable of killing his nephew. "All right, go on, tell us what happened."  
Maximus' stance was the one of a commander listening to a report and Quintus responded in kind, "We came out with a plan to discredit Caesar. You must know that he is organizing 150 days of gladiatorial games to celebrate his father and that he is selling the grain reserves of the city to pay for them. Now, if we can let the people know what is going on and in the same time create a situation in which the city might be forced to rely on its grain reserves, that could alienate the mob's support from Commodus. In the chaos what will follow, we can eliminate the Praetorians with the Felix legion's help."  
Maximus stayed silent for several moments, pondering Quintus' words. Then he said. "It is a good plan, but how we can put it into practice?"  
"Don't worry, I know how to do it...remember my family trades grain...." Quintus smiled and his friend replied at the same way.  
Another moment of silence followed and Antonia and Quintus seemed to notice Hildegarde, standing in the shadows behind Maximus, for the first time. Their eyes widened when they recognized her from their past meeting and they both turned to the Spaniard, silently asking how she had arrived in Rome at his side. The General simply shook his head and mouthed, "Later."  
Quintus nodded and breaking the stillness said, "It is very late. It is best if we go to sleep now. Antonia, please show Hildegarde to her room."  
The young German turned to look at Maximus and he nodded, encouraging her to go with the other woman.  
As soon as the two women left the room, Maximus turned to Quintus and in few words told him everything had happened to him and his family since the last time they saw each other.   
Quintus was shocked by such cruelty and searched for words he was not able to find. In the end he simply patted Maximus' back and said, "Come with me, I have something for you."  
His friend raised an eyebrow but followed him to the study, where Quintus walked to a little treasure chest, opened it and pulled out a small leather pouch. Then he approached Maximus and taking his hand put the object in it. "It is this what convinced me that something bad had happened to you. I knew you would not have left them behind had you gone away on your own free will."  
Maximus lowered his head and opened the pouch. His heart seemed to stop when he saw what it contained. Tears pricked his eyes and he looked around him, almost searching for something.  
Quintus seemed to understand, "Come with me," he said softly and led the other man to a small room where the Claudii-Clari family shrine was. "Here," he added, "take all the time you need. This are not your penates but they will listen to you all the same. And when you have finished, remember that your room is the third door along the hallway, beside Hildegarde's."  
"Thank you, Quintus. For everything." Maximus' voice was a mere whisper.  
Quintus smiled slightly and went away, leaving his friend alone.  
Maximus walked to the altar and knelt down in front of it. With trembling hands he picked up the figurines of Selene and Marcus and put them among those of the gods standing on the shrine. Then he bowed his head and began to pray. He asked for the guidance of his ancestors, for the help of the gods in the last deadly battle he was preparing to fight, and for Marcus Aurelius' wisdom and counsel, promising him once more he would fight till the end for the dream which was Rome. Then it was time to turn his attention to his wife and son. Maximus was so crushed with guilt and regret that it was almost impossible for him to speak. With a little cry he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of roses mingled with sprung to his memory and soothed his nerves, enabling him to calm down his boiling emotions.   
  
Slowly he felt as he was transported in another place, far away from that room and Rome. In front of his closed eyes the image of his villa in Hispania appeared, but not as he had seen it a few weeks before, burned and destroyed, but as he remembered it in his dreams: the blond wheat waving in the fields, the vineyards full of grapes, the wild ponies running free.  
He felt himself walking in the field, the swollen spikes trailing through his hand.  
Then he stopped. His eyes had caught a movement faraway. He squinted into the sunlight and saw two figures walking in his direction. His heart began to race as he recognized them: Selene and Marcus, walking hand in hand, their bodies once again whole and exuding health. They stopped in front of him, a smile on their faces.  
"My husband, I am so happy to see you here, even if I know yours is only a brief visit." Selene said, smiling.  
Maximus looked around, "Where are we?"  
"Don't you remember? This is your vision of Elysium."  
"Oh." He looked around again then said, "It looks very peaceful."  
"It is." Selene's dark eyes bored into his own and she became serious, "Nobody can hurt us anymore, Maximus, we are safe here."  
"Yes....but I failed to protect you....I was not here when you needed me most and I will never forgive myself for it." Maximus stretched out a hand, and caressed his wife's cheek.  
Selene took his hand and kissed it, "You must forgive yourself, my love. It was not your fault. And you must learn to love again, you cannot live only with rage, hate and revenge in your heart."  
Maximus was shocked, even more so when an image of Hildegarde appeared in the fields, not very far from where they were standing. He turned to look to Selene, to beg her forgiveness, to explain but then he saw that she was smiling at the other woman. "She is beautiful....and she loves you. Don't let her go."  
"What?!"  
"Maximus, the gods gave you a gift...a second chance for happiness. Don't waste it. It would break my heart to see you growing old all alone, with only regrets and painful memories keeping you company. I want you to be happy as I and Marcus are now. I only ask you to never forget us."  
"I will never forget you." Maximus said fiercely. He stepped forward and hugged Selene tightly, before dropping his knees and do the same with Marcus.  
"Thank you," he continued to repeat as he closed his eyes to stop his tears and buried his nose in his son's hair.   
  
When he opened his eyes again, Maximus was once again in the small room in Quintus' villa. He shook his head to clear his mind and focus to his surroundings, and then stood up, brushing his tears away. His knees hurt and he wondered how much time he had spent in prayer. He retrieved his figurines from the shrine and kissed them gently before putting them back in the pouch. "Thank you, my loves." he whispered again, thinking about his vision, "Thank you for freeing me for my guilt. I promise I will not disappoint you." He tied the pouch to his belt and left the room.  
  
11  
  
Maximus moved like a sleepwalker to the room that Quintus had instructed him to take. He barely knew where his feet were carrying him before he looked up and found himself at the door. He was about to push it open when he turned toward the room beside his, where Hildegarde was sleeping.  
Hildegarde.  
Selene had forgiven him, and now he could admit to himself what he had not been able to before- that he was in love with the German woman again.  
No, he corrected himself, he was in love with her still. He had never stopped.  
Maximus pushed aside the wooden door, grateful that it didn't squeak. The room was full of moonlight that streamed in from the courtyard. He was surprised to find Hildegarde still awake, bathed in its silvery rays as she peered out of one of the windows.  
"Hildegarde?" He whispered softly.  
She turned almost immediately.  
"Yes?"  
"I….I wanted to see if you are alright….you aren't sleeping?"  
"No…I….." She looked at her hands. "I couldn't sleep." She said at last. "I was…lonely….and a bit-" She looked at the bed sheepishly as her voice faded away.  
"A bit…?"  
"Oh, Maximus! What are we doing here? I feel as if anything I touch will be broken!" She cried mournfully. "What if I wrinkle the sheets?"  
"Wrinkle the sheets?" He asked, not understanding.  
"Yes! They are the thinnest fabric that I have ever seen…and the pillows..."  
He couldn't help but laugh at her. "If you wrinkle them, the servants will see that they are pressed!" He said. "Don't worry. Quintus and Antonia will not mind."  
"How can they afford such luxuries? I thought Quintus was a soldier. Your house wasn't…." She stopped quickly, aware that he might not want to think about "his house."  
"- it wasn't quite so grand. I know….but things are different in Rome. Quintus is a soldier, but his father was a wealthy merchant, and Antonia is practically a princess. The house belongs to her."  
Hildegarde nodded, but looked unconvinced. Seeing how sleepy she was, Maximus decided to take action. He hopped to the center of the high bed. "See, it did not break. Come. Join me…"  
The German tilted her head, and then she obeyed, climbing carefully onto the mattress, smoothing the fabric beneath her.  
Maximus watched her carefully. "See…things are still fine. You haven't damaged it." He reached his arms toward her, and then gathered her beside him, her body cupped in front of him. "Now rest…it has been a long day."  
Hildegarde closed her eyes, but she did not want to sleep. She wanted to remain awake so that she could savor the warmth of Maximus' body against her back, and revel in the security of his powerful arms around her. She turned her head slightly, surprised to find that he was watching her. She followed his eyes downward to the deep V of her tunica. The dress was  
gapping at the neck, exposing her pale skin to his view….but surely he wasn't looking.  
She followed his eyes again.  
He was.  
She felt a tremor deep within her body, and struggled to maintain control. She was imagining things. Maximus had made it very clear that he was willing only to be her friend. Surely things hadn't changed…..had they? Hildegarde wanted it so badly….she clenched her eyes lids tightly in an attempt to avoid shedding the tears that suddenly brimmed there.  
"Shh….." Maximus whispered, seeing the look. "Don't cry." He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck softly. "Shhhh…it's alright"- but the soft touch of her love did not calm Hildegarde's nerves, it only made her cry harder. How badly she wanted to tell him how she felt, to beg him to give her even a chance to show him happiness. Didn't he know  
how much she had sacrificed to be with him? How far she had already followed him away from everything that she knew and everyone that she loved? Her daydreams consumed her. In her mind, she pictured the fantasies that came to her at night. The passionate hours that they would spend in each other's arms…the images were so vivid that she almost thought that they had come to life when she felt Maximus' flat palm press against her stomach.  
"Hildegarde." He murmured huskily.  
Suddenly, she was very conscious of the present. She hadn't imagined the touch. His hand was on her ribcage, trailing upward. The gap in her shirt had grown larger as a result of his movements, exposing her fully to his assault.  
"Max-"  
"Don't speak." He commanded, rendering the action impossible as he consumed her in a deep kiss. Hildegarde's heart was racing. Never had she imagined that this might happen. Even in her most optimistic plans, she had assumed it would take years to bring him back to her bed…what had happened?   
She wanted an answer to the question, but not at the expense of the moment. Pushing her worries aside, she responded to his kiss ardently, letting all of the longings she had repressed for the past lonely weeks spill across the connection of their lips.  
Maximus released her chest so that he could turn her toward him, twisting her onto her back, and then covering her with his body, her small form completely eclipsed by his larger one. She pressed back into the soft coverings, her entire body shimmering with the pleasure of his flesh pressed against her.  
Hildegarde let her own small hands roam free. They skimmed his chest, and then, reaching his shoulders, moved downwards again along his back, resting at last on the hem of the short tunic that he had worn during their journey.  
Tentatively, her hand slipped beneath it, resting on his thighs. Meeting no resistance, she grew bolder, pushing the fabric upwards to his waist.   
Maximus continued to kiss her, his urgency increasing with every moment. At last, when the tunica had been pushed as high as his waist, he moaned in frustration, and caught Hildegarde's hands and pulled them above her head, pinning them with one of his own, and then completing the work that she had started- wrenching the shirt over his head, then untucking the loincloth in a single movement.  
Almost unconsciously, Hildegarde arched toward him, pressing her hips against the erection that his nakedness displayed. The heat of it seemed to burn through her clothing, and she was filled with a sudden frenzied longing, NEEDING him on a physical level as badly as she had desired him romantically before.  
Maximus reciprocated her desire. Heedless of their delicacy, he ripped through her clothes, exposing her flesh to his assault, and then claimed her hungrily, pressing into her with a power that left them breathless.  
Hildegarde felt as she had on the first night that they were together. Complete. As though an aching hole within her had been filled. The sensation was almost paralyzing, and it was a long moment before either party began to move. When, at last, Maximus began to thrust within her, the feeling of awe was replaced with an even stronger, if more animal pleasure- her nerves sang beneath his touch, her flesh melting to the delight he so lavishly bestowed…..  
Their passion increased like a thunderhead darkening before a storm. Their final release, like lightning that split the sky.  
At last, spent and damp with sweat, their breathing began to slow They looked at each other shyly, neither knowing what to say. Hildegarde half-wondered if she were really asleep, and she cursed the day, for one way or another, it would rob her of this perfect moment. While the night lingered, however, she was content to lay in Maximus' arms and treasure the  
happiness for as long as it remained.  
  
12  
  
In the following days the plan was set in action.  
the next morning, in the middle of the day, in full view of Commodus' spies, Quintus left his villa to visit his mother's. He knew his brothers would be there to discuss the family business. When they were all together sitting around a table, Quintus told them what was happening to him and about his plan. His mother was upset but she understood his reasons. As for his older siblings, they had always been in awe of their little brother, who had accomplished so many things in his life -- including marrying a member of the imperial family! - that they quickly agreed to be his connection to their shops and the trading business.  
By the end of the second day after the meeting with the senators, the tale of a terrible famine plaguing Egypt and Sicily began to spread in Ostia and then in Rome. Nobody really knew who had first spread the rumors but when the Clari brothers increased the prices of their stock, the other grain merchants imitated them, even if they did not have any confirmation that the news was true.  
Like a fire stroked by the blowing wind, worry spread among the lower classes of Rome population because the price of the grain and the bread was too high for them. To avoid panic and disorder, the Empire was forced to use part of its grain reserves to lower the prices again.  
That was when that the second part of Quintus' plan began.  
Using intermediaries so that it would not be possible to track them, Lucilla, Gracchus and Gaius hired actors, beggars and thieve to circulate among the already agitated mob the story that Commodus was selling the Urbe grain reserves to for the games. With the danger of starvation hanging over their heads, the citizens began to lose their appetites for the games and their Caesar.  
  
*****  
  
As the phases of their plane slowly unfurled, Maximus remained cloistered within the Claudii villa, spending time with Quintus, Antonia and especially Hildegarde. Staying near her, hearing about their son and dreaming of a better future helped him to bear the inactivity. Maximus was aware his state of mind resembled what he felt before the final battle in Germania, but this time, he swore to himself and the Gods, nobody would take his happiness away.  
As for Hildegarde, she also spent time with Antonia, helping her with the care of the house and the children. Titus and Appius liked to play with their guest, fascinated to discover an adult to whom they could teach words, instead that the other way around, and the German loved to be with them, even if they sometimes made her longing for Match unbearable. When the sadness was too much, she went to look for Maximus, because being pressed against his chest always eased her pain. Hildegarde was conscious of the danger in front of him, in front of them both, but she was confident in his skill as a warrior and sure that the Gods would not be so cruel as to rob her of happiness a second time.  
During the same period, Quintus and Antonia went thorough the motions of a normal life, as if they had nothing to hide. Antonia even spent time in the imperial Palace, visiting with Lucilla...and Commodus.  
She found Caesar nervous about the grain crisis but still confident of his grip on the mob and Rome. He was sure the problem would be resolved shortly because, he told her as a matter of fact, he had received news from Sicily there was no famine. Antonia paled upon hearing this, and cast a quick glance to Lucilla, who was sitting beside her. The Augusta nodded to her: the message was short and clear, the army had to act as soon as possible, before Commodus might regain his popularity among the mob.  
That same evening Antonia informed Quintus and Maximus about the new development. The two generals decide to leave for Ostia the following morning. Quintus would leave the house in the guise of going to supervise the family shipping fleet in the harbor, accompanied in his travel by two German servants - Maximus and Hildegarde - carrying his luggage. Quintus had been surprised by Maximus' decision to bring the woman with them, but in the end he had stayed silent, trusting his friend's judgment as he had always done.  
That last night in the villa was very hard for Quintus and Antonia. It was not the first time they had bid each other farewell before he went to fight a battle, but on those previous occasions he had been the only risking his life, while now all of them - Antonia, the children, and even Quintus' brothers, sister, and mother - were in danger. Husband and wife tried not to think about what would happen to them if something went wrong. They simply embraced each other and waited for the new day to arrive.  
  
13  
  
During the trip to Ostia, Maximus, Quintus and Hildegarde exchanged only few words, intent as they were to keep a fast pace without giving the impression that they were in haste or had something to hide.  
They had almost reached the town gates when Maximus said tersely, "I am afraid we had been followed."  
"Dammit!" replied Quintus before adding, "We will try to lose them in the heart of the city. The camp is not very far and we can leave the horses somewhere and reach it walking."  
"All right." Maximus explained the situation to Hildegarde, using her native language. The young woman's Latin had improved greatly, but he wanted to be sure she understood perfectly what was going to happen.  
  
*****  
  
As soon as they reached the city, they left the horses in a public stable and then mingled among the persons that crowded the street. Ostia was like a big market area, bursting with activities, with people selling and buying things, and new merchandises being unloaded from the ships.  
Maximus, Quintus and Hildegarde changed streets many times, often entering shops, stopping to examine goods, until, after almost a hour, they were sure that they had lost their followers. Quickly they left the city center and headed for the Felix Legions castrum.  
  
The gates of the camp opened at once when the sentries recognized Quintus and he was led inside along with his companions and met by very happy soldiers, who immediately called to their peers. In few minutes the trio was surrounded by legionaries patting Quintus' back and squeezing his hand, while the men threw curious glances to his traveling companions. Maximus was still wearing the hood he had donned to avoid being recognized again in the market area and thus his face was practically invisible. As for Hildegarde, she was bare headed and her wild beauty was attracting admiring looks.  
The joyful gathering was interrupted by the arrival of a man Maximus had never seen before; he was wearing the uniform of a general and Maximus surmised he was the new commander appointed by Commodus. The Spaniard also noticed the dirty look the soldiers were giving to their superior and a small smile formed on his lips.  
"Clarus," growled the newcomer, his arms crossed on his chest in a threatening pose, "What do you want here? This is no longer your legion,--it is mine and I don't want you to come here and disturb the men."  
Quintus was not scared at all by show and tilting his head to the side said gently, "Are you sure? I don't think this legion is yours, Flaccus."  
"NO? I am its commander, appointed by Caesar and the soldiers will obey to me if I tell them to throw you out of this camp."  
"This is highly unlikely." declared quietly Maximus, stepping near Quintus.  
"Who are you?" spat Flaccus, unaware of the assembled soldier's collective gasp upon hearing the hooded man's voice.  
"Someone who knows the Felix Legions well." And with those words, Maximus pushed away his covering.  
The troops stayed silent for a stunned moment and then exploded in jubilant cries, "General Maximus!!" the men shouted in unison and the Spaniard smiled.  
Hearing the name Flaccus paled, "But..it is not possible...You should be dead." he stammered, not aware he had just committed a terrible mistake by voicing his thoughts aloud. He realized it only when he felt the soldier's angry glances on him. He began to back away but was quickly caught and immobilized.  
Maximus nodded his approval to the action and ordered to the nearest centurion, "Do what you have to do to ensure he and his supporters won't cause damage."  
"Consider it already done, Sir." replied the smiling officer before proceeding to pass the orders along the ranks.  
Surrounded by the legionaries, Maximus, Quintus and Hildegarde were escorted to the Praetorium. When they arrived they found Valerius waiting for them, a big grin on his face.  
"Welcome back, General. It is a pleasure to see you." Said the Felix Legion third- in -command. Maximus smiled and shook hands with him, then he turned serious. "I need to meet all the officers in the briefing tent as soon as possible."  
"Give us half a hour, Sir. We will be there."  
"Thank you, Valerius."  
The robust officer bowed his head and walked away.  
Maximus watched him go and then said to Quintus, "All is going well. It went smoother I hoped."  
"The men love you, Maximus, they would go to hell and back for you."  
The Spaniard lowered his eyes, uncomfortable with his friend's words, even if he knew they were true, and Quintus added, "You will see soon enough, when you will ask them to march on Rome."  
  
14  
  
The briefing tent was filled beyond its capacity as all the officers pressed themselves in. Everybody wanted to see with their own eyes that their legendary command team was again in front of them. They were also curious about the young woman sitting in a corner of the tent. To some of the men, such as Valerius and Faustus, she looked familiar but their speculations died when Maximus began to speak.  
Clad once more in a general's uniform, the Spaniard told to his men what had happened in Germania the day Marcus Aurelius died. He told them everything, from the morning conversation with the late Caesar to his being sentenced to death by Commodus; from his escape from his executioners to his terrible discovery in Hispania. Maximus' voice broke on the last sentences and he turned his head away, embarrassed by his show of weakness, but when he turned to look at his men he saw that many of their battle-hardened faces were streaked with tears. He also saw rage and determination and the promise to make Commodus pay for all his crimes.  
Quintus, once more the second in command, voiced aloud everyone's thoughts, "General, what is the plan?"  
"In a moment, Quintus, first I must say this," Maximus looked to the assembled officers, "I don't have any proof to give you that Marcus Aurelius wanted me as his successor, I can only give you my word. If tomorrow we march on Rome and something goes wrong, you will be considered all traitors and your families will be killed. So, think well about this. I will understand if someone decides to stay behind."  
The officers looked at each other quickly and then nodded. Valerius spoke for them, "Just give the order, General."  
"Thank you." said Maximus bowing his head. "We will leave this camp two days from now at sundown. We should arrive near Rome just before dawn, at a time when the Praetorians are still in their barracks and the populaces has yet to crowd the streets. This should ensure there will be a lesser danger of killing civilians. We must reach the imperial palace on the Palatine hill and find Commodus. I don't think he will accept being captured so we must take call necessary measures to avoid his escape. As Marcus Aurelius told me, Commodus must not rule. And he won't." His voice was fierce and the men rejoiced in the return of their implacable leader. "Now go," the Spaniard added, "there are many things which need to be ready for the march and I want all the men to be well rested. I also want you to repeat my words to your subordinates and explain them the situation. Anyone who might wish to leave must be free to do so. Is that clear?"  
"Yes, General!" all the officers said at unison.  
"All right, you are dismissed."  
The legionaries began to leave the tent led by Quintus when Maximus spoke again, "Faustus, please remain a moment longer."  
The old centurion stopped and returned near his general, "Sir?"  
"First of all I want to thank you for your concern for me: Quintus told me about the visit you paid to him."  
"No thanks are necessary, Sir: you would have done the same for me or for any of the other of the men, had we disappeared in such strange manner."  
"That's true, you know me well, Faustus."  
"Since you were a boy still wet behind your ears.......Sir." commented the centurion with a smile.  
"Ah, don't say that in front of the men.....my commanding image would be destroyed!" Maximus said laughing then returned serious, "Faustus, I have a favor to ask to you."  
"Anything, General."  
Maximus turned to Hildegarde, who until then had sat silently in a corner, looking with awe at the assembly, and he motioned her to come near him. She rose gracefully to her feet and walked to him.  
"Faustus," the Spaniard said, "this is Hildegarde. She saved my life twice and she is the most important thing I have been left in this world along with her son....our son. What I ask you is this: you won't march with me to Rome. You will stay in a inn outside Ostia together with her. If we should fail to take control of Rome I want you to take her away from Italy and lead her back to Germania. I will leave to you all the money I have left and one of my horses."  
Maximus stopped to talk and watched the older man's face. It was clear Faustus had been surprised by his request but the disappointment of not taking part in the imminent battle was quickly replaced with pride for having been chosen to protect his General's most precious treasure. "I promise to do so, Maximus, I will protect her with my life."  
"Thank you, my friend." said Maximus, moved. The two men embraced warmly then, with a bow in Hildegarde' direction, Faustus walked away.  
Maximus turned to look at his German lover and asked softly, "Did you understand what I told to him?"  
Hildegarde nodded. She did not want to think about the possibility that something might go wrong but she was touched by Maximus' desire to protect her.  
"I know," he whispered, almost reading her mind and pulling her into his arms, "I don't want to think about it either, but I need to be sure you are safe. I can't bear the thought of seeing you end like Selene. This is why I brought you here and did not leave you in the villa......I know all too well what will happen if Commodus discovers what Quintus is doing."  
"I understand, Maximus, you don't have to justify your self."  
"Faustus his one of my oldest friends, he will take good care of you."  
"I trust you. I have always trusted you." Hildegarde smiled and caressed his cheek.  
Maximus kissed the tip of her nose and said, "Now return to the tent they assigned to us. I will join you as soon as I am sure everything is all right in the camp."  
"All right, I will wait for you."  
The general watched until she disappeared from the tent and then marched out to begin his inspection.  
  
15  
  
Antonia looked up from her seat in the shade of the garden and watched Titus and Appius playing. They were pushing a little toy boat across the fountain, releasing peels of glee as the slave who was tending them blew into the little sail, sending it across the makeshift lake. Their mother wished that she could share their carefree happiness, but ships reminded her of Ostia, Ostia reminded her of Quintus, and of the terrible danger that he faced.  
It had been two days since he left, and there had still been no word. It wasn't surprising, really. Quintus had left under the guise of tending to his business affairs, and anyone watching the house would know that sending a letter home on such a routine, brief excursion would be out of the ordinary. She felt as if she were trapped inside a prison, instead of a luxurious villa. It was impossible to concentrate on the little volume of Greek verses that she was sounding out in her head- she had repeated the same sentence at least half a dozen times already. It was with some relief that she saw Pallas, her chief servant, approaching. He was one of the few in the house trusted enough to be informed of the whole plot. Perhaps his presence meant that a letter had come at last-or at least that she had a visitor.  
Antonia arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"  
"Your cousin is here to see you, domina." Pallas said in an odd tone.  
Antonia frowned, guessing the meaning in his words at once. Lucilla was here. She had been expressly warned not to come….did this mean that something had happened?   
The scroll fell from her hand, clattering against the mosaic floor as Antonia ran to the atrium. She skidded to a halt only as she saw the dark plume of a Praetorian helmet. Slowing her steps, and gathering her courage, Antonia continued to walk.  
It was not Lucilla.  
The shock must have shown on Antonia's features, because the Emperor's mouth turned instantly to a petulant frown. "Have I interrupted you?" He asked, tersely.  
Lady Clara eyed her uncle's son warily. "No." She said in a small voice. Then, remembering the part that she must play, forced her lips into an inviting grin.  
"No, of course! I always have time for you, cousin. I was merely reflecting that I haven't any appropriate refreshments to serve someone of your---"  
"Nonsense!" Commodus interjected, humor returning to his features. "I know that can't be true. You still have the same baker, don't you? The one that made the little fig pies for us when your mother was still alive…."  
"Calliope." Antonia said, nodding. "Yes, of course." She looked to Pallas, who scurried away without waiting to be told what was required. "I am surprised that you remembered, Caesar. That was…so long ago."  
"Yes. Commodus studied his feet for a moment, and then he looked sharply at the Praetorians. "Go." He said firmly.  
With a nod, the men obeyed.  
Antonia took a step backwards, as they left the room, the open space seeming suddenly smaller than it had just a few moments before. She couldn't articulate a reason for her concern…it was merely an odd feeling that she had gotten in the Praetorium at Augusta Vindelicorum when he had come to visit, and again in the palace upon the new emperor's return- a feeling that Commodus was considering her as a woman, rather than a cousin or a friend…it was attention that she did not desire.  
Antonia's apprehension was only heightened when Commodus took a step closer to her and observed. "You are looking well, cousin…..surprisingly well."  
"Surprisingly?"   
"Yes…I was worried that you might be….pregnant. It would be a shame, you know, wasting your figure for a man like Clarus."  
In spite of herself, Antonia felt her features scrunch in displeasure.  
"Oh, I know that you care for him" Commodus continued quickly. "But he's more the type that your sort should keep as a lover, out of sight of the rest of us…your next husband might not like the thought that he had shared you with such a man."  
"My next husband?" Antonia felt a shiver along her spine. "Is Quintus planning to divorce me?"  
No answer.  
"You know…" Commodus took another step forward, running his finger along the bust that his cousin had nearly upended a moment before. "I always wondered why my father supported the wedding. It was odd." He made a high, unnatural laugh. "I had the impression that he had thought of me for your husband."  
All of Antonia's fears threatened to crash in on her at once, but she steeled herself against capitulation.  
"You?" She said softly. "But Commodus, you are my first cousin! It is against the law…"   
"Caesars make laws." He said perhaps more harshly than he intended, because he quickly looked away. "That is hardly a barrier."   
"No…"  
"He spoke of it rather often….I remember distinctly his remarking to Lucilla while Lucius Verus was still living that she would have to teach you how to be an empress someday…."  
Maximus, Antonia thought, he had been speaking of Maximus…  
"But then, I suppose my father said many things he didn't mean towards ….towards the end."  
Antonia nodded, solemnly.  
"I am Caesar now."  
"Yes."  
Antonia swallowed as she felt her cousin's fingertips brush along her forearm, and then saw his other hand move to her hip. It rested there lightly as Commodus leaned forward, speaking almost in a whisper. "I can undo a great many of my father's mistakes."  
"Mistress! Your fig cakes."  
Antonia shot apart from Commodus as though she had been burned, then gave her servant a grateful look. She could tell , from the emperor's annoyed expression, that the interruption would not go unpunished. A retainer of Pallas' seniority would have no excuse. She was touched by the old man's loyalty.  
Still glowering, Commodus took a cake from the little pewter tray and began to chew it absently. Before he had a chance to send the servant away, Antonia directed him to a chair, and then sat down herself a few feet away.   
"So, cousin." She said as cheerfully as possible while she poured them both glasses of wine. "What brings you here today?"  
"A friendly visit." Commodus accepted the glass that she offered, waiting for her to drink first, and then took a deep gulp. "And a kind gesture. I wanted to make sure that you were safe."  
"Safe?"  
"From….reprisals. I'm afraid that it turns out that the grain shortage rumor wasn't true."  
"Oh?" Antonia choked out. "It wasn't? My husband was certain that---"  
"That he could make a quick profit by spreading the rumor?"  
Antonia bit her tongue. Silence was the only way to avoid implicating her husband in some scheme or another. It was better that the emperor didn't know which version of the awful truth to believe.   
"It has caused me trouble…the headcount was not very pleased when their grain ration was cut…I made certain that the merchants who had participated in the scheme- at the expense of the citizens of Rome- were publicized….I'm afraid that I forgot about your connection to the Clarus granary until after the list had been posted. I've tried to call off my men, but you know how things can be…." He took another sip of wine, the casualness of his evil chilling Antonia to the bone. "I think it would be best if You-and your sons-stayed with me in the palace. I'd feel terribly responsible if something… unfortunate …happened."  
"Commodus- your highness-thank you, but we can't. I'm sure that we will be safe here. It was only a rumor and while-"  
"I don't think that you understand me, Antonia." Caesar said darkly. "It's not a request. I won't let you ..endanger yourself."  
General Claudius' daughter drew a shaky breath. Their plan was coming undone. Using the Clarus connections to spread rumors about the grain had been a loose thread that the emperor's spies had traced directly back to their mouths. He had seized upon it now, uncertain to where it would lead, but pulling with all his might. Her only chance was to distract him.  
"Thank you, Caesar." She said softly. "I am grateful for your concern. You are right. One can never be too careful in these times…"  
Her companion blinked, almost surprised by her acquiescence. "Yes." He said at last, rising from his chair. "Well, come. I've sent my sister's litter. The servants can bring the children and your clothes." He abandoned the fig cake on a tray. "I have important business to tend to now, but I'll expect you at dinner." He gave her a pointed look. "On my balcony…just the two of us. I'm looking forward to….knowing you again."  
Antonia sat very still as her cousin said goodbye, then gathered his guards in the foyer and left, then the terror that she was feeling spilled out, and her body shook so violently that she slid from her seat on the chair.  
"Oh Quintus." She whispered in her mind. "Be careful…" she choked back a fresh round of sobs as she thought of the impending dinner. "Hurry…..and forgive me for what I must do to save you…"  
  
15  
  
Lucilla dropped her hand and the heavy velvet curtain that she had been holding fell back into place. She had seen enough- her brother had returned home, bearing with him her cousin Antonia and her two little boys. The younger woman's face had been tightly drawn. Now she would begin life in the palace as a *guest* of the emperor, but both women knew that the word was really a euphemism for: prisoner.   
Quintus Clarus had always skirted perilously close to Commodus' displeasure. The young Caesar was proud of his bloodline, and resentful of the fact that an upstart soldier had weaseled in.  
Resentful, or frightened? Lucilla wondered for a moment. Antonia had ties to the Antoinine line, and Quintus had the loyalty of the Northern Army....perhaps Commodus' actions in arresting his cousin had been shrewder than his sister had first thought.  
To a degree, Antonia was lucky. The childhood affection that Caesar had held for her was strong enough to forebear her death. Her children were safe as well, for now, but Lucilla couldn't help but wonder about the ways that the woman would be expected to repay this kindness....she herself had learned the cost of survival all too well....  
"Sister."  
Lucilla turned at the sound of her brother's voice, and forced a cheerfulness that she did not feel. "Brother, you are home." She crossed the room and planted a soothing kiss on his cheek. "And Antonia....what a pleasant surprise."  
"The emperor has been so kind as to invite my family to visit while my husband is tending his affairs on the coast." The younger woman answered tonelessly.  
"We are pleased to have you."  
"Yes."  
The women shared a look, the empress studying her cousin carefully.  
Lucilla and Antonia had never been exactly friends. Antonia and Commodus had been closer in both age and temperament, both the angels of their mothers' lives, and subject to a good deal of spoiling in which the princess, older and more refined, was not permitted to indulge. Lucilla's indifference toward the girl had soured, however, when she had overheard the plans that her father had made more than four years before.  
Lucilla always knew that Marcus Aurelius intended to gain a political alliance from his niece. Nearly from the instant she had been deposited in his lap- fatherless, and family-less on her paternal line- the *silver lining* in providing her care had been the certainty that her breeding and looks would catch him whatever sort of man he was most in need of drawing into his net....men like Balbus Cressidus, the aging senator, who had toed the line of the emperor's wishes during his brief, but enjoyable (from his perspective, if the rumors were to be believed) marriage to General Claudius' daughter. Lucilla understood the arrangement, she herself had been forced into a loveless marriage with the co-emperor when she was still a mere girl. With Cressidus' death, Antonia was free to marry again, and Marcus Aurelius had just the right man in mind- Maximus Decimus Meridas, general of the Felix Legions - and the love of Lucilla's life.  
Many years before- before even Lucius Verus- the Empress had fallen in love with the young Spaniard during a tour of the military camps that she had made with her father. It had been the happiest time of her life. For a few, fleeting months, they had spent long, golden afternoons making love in high, sweet grass- two ordinary people, caring only for the moment. Of course, it could not last, but Lucilla had consoled herself with the notion that the memories would linger with the soldier for all his life..that never again would he approach the thrill of holding a princess in his arms...that he would remember it always...  
But it was not to be.  
True, Maximus was already married to a Spanish woman by that time, but it was hardly the same. Antonia was at least as beautiful as her cousin, and she had a defiant spirit that Lucilla knew she sometimes lacked, moreover, she would be Maximus' key to the power that he deserved. How could he help but love her?  
Lucilla had been asked to join the little caravan on its way to Vindobona, but she had declined, unwilling to face the pain of seeing Maximus, only to know he was destined for another woman's arms. She had cried herself to sleep every night for three months until news had returned to Rome that her cousin had not married the General after all.   
Her feelings had not been Antonia's fault, but she had held a grudge nevertheless. Now, however, seeing the fear in her proud cousin's eyes, Lucilla's heart began to soften. She was afraid, and nearly as tired as the empress herself.  
"Will you join me for dinner, Antonia? I didn't get a chance to catch up with you when I visited your home. I was entirely distracted by the little boys..."  
"Antonia has plans." Commodus said harshly. "Perhaps she should go to her room and prepare for them."  
The younger woman's eyes drifted from one cousin to the other, and then she made a sketchy sort of bow. "As you wish, Caesar." She said softly, then turned to go.  
"I will see you in the morning, sister." Commodus said with eerie cheerfulness, and then he turned to leave as well.  
The suddenness with which the encounter had ended was unsettling. What was Commodus planning? Why had he brought Antonia to the palace? Was Quintus still alive? Perhaps her brother knew that he had gone, and was trying to force him into action too soon...Fear gripped Lucilla's gut as she realized that their plan could be betrayed.  
She had to warn Quintus before it was too late.  
"Sara!" She cried quickly to her maid.  
"Yes, m'lady." The woman answered, slipping from the shadows.  
"Fetch Centurion Calpus." She said quietly, naming her most loyal messenger. "I have an urgent request...."  
  
16  
  
Antonia clenched her hands nervously at her side, feeling more as though she were marching off to execution than to dinner. She had been in the palace for only a few hours, but already her courage was wearing thin. Where was Quintus? Was he alive? Would he save her? Or was that her cousin's plan- to draw Quintus and Maximus into the city using her as bait.  
"The emperor is waiting."  
Antonia looked up at the sound of the Praetorian who had come to escort her. She frowned, annoyed that the arrogant guard had entered her chambers without knocking- and wondering why Commodus felt he needed so many guards about, even in the comfort of his own home.  
"I am coming." She said grimly. She nodded her chin at the slave who had helped her dress, and the girl artfully wound the stola over her mistress' shoulders.  
Antonia followed the Praetorian in silence, trying to keep her chin up and her eyes straight ahead. She felt her heart sink as she was led into her cousin's chambers- she had hoped that it would be a family dinner, and that she would be able to see her sons, but it was not to be. She felt relief as they walked through the empty bedchamber onto a terrace that overlooked the  
palace gardens. Her cousin was sitting there, his clothes less formal than usual, and his expression distant.  
"Your majesty?" Antonia said, after an awkward pause.  
"Antonia!" instantly, Commodus' features came to life. Whatever problem he had been pondering was forgotten as he walked forward to take the woman's hands in his own, and then kiss them one at a time. "You look lovely." He said with feeling. "Are you comfortable?"  
"Yes." She said quickly, and then added. "But I am worried about the boys. No one will tell me where they are."  
"They are being tended to." Commodus said, quickly brushing the concern aside. "You needn't worry about them….for now."  
Antonia swallowed, wondering if the final words were a threat, or merely an afterthought. She prayed for the latter.  
"Join me." Commodus commanded at last, gesturing toward a table that had been spread with linens. "You must be famished."  
Antonia blinked, realizing for the first time that she was hungry- she hadn't eaten since breakfast- but wondering if she would even be able to swallow.   
Silently, she took the seat that was indicated, reclining on one of the plush couches that had been arranged for the diners. Without waiting for a signal, the servants began to stream in with food.  
The pair ate in silence for a while, until Antonia noticed the emperor staring at her.  
"What is it, Caesar?" She asked at last. "Am I displeasing you?"  
"No, quite the contrary, I assure you."  
Antonia caught the look in his eyes and quickly turned her head.   
"Is everything okay?"  
"Yes, I….I am merely worried about my husband."  
Commodus' features clouded. "Why? I told you not to. He won't be your worry for much longer anyhow."  
"Oh?"  
"Yes. Commodus lowered the bite of food that he was about to eat, and then looked at Antonia seriously. "I've arranged for your divorce."  
"Divorce?" Antonia felt suddenly numb. "What…what do you…?"  
"I signed the papers this evening. A trifle really, you shouldn't worry about it. I didn't bother trying to recover your dowry. No sense, really when…..Antonia?"  
The general's daughter tried to force herself to breathe, and then replied. "I am….surprised."  
"You will grow used to it…..its what my father wanted."  
"Me to be divorced from Clarus?"   
"No….for….Antonia, don't you see? We can be together now, the way my father always wanted."  
The woman tried to fight the tears that rushed toward her eyes, promising herself that she could cry all night if she could only hide her feelings from the emperor now. "Your father wanted…"  
"You to be an empress. I will make you one. I will give you a kingdom," Antonia's jaw clenched as Commodus reached forward and drew his index finger along the sharp line of her jaw. "…and you will give me an heir….a pure Antonine…fit to be Caesar when I am gone."  
"But Lucius-"   
"I have other plans for Lucius." Commodus said with foreboding. He frowned, caught in thought again for a moment, and then he moved to the edge of the couch, rising to kneel beside Antonia. "We will make history together." Commodus whispered, excited. "The people will love us, they…"  
Antonia blinked in amazement as she watched her cousin's face. He was rhapsodizing about the love of the populace…he really believes it… she thought with surprise.  
She blinked as she realized that her cousin had stopped speaking. He was staring at her mouth, and Antonia realized, only after it was too late, that he was leaning forward to kiss her.  
It had been so long since anyone but Quintus had touched her lips that, at first, she was in shock. Her first instinct was to spit, and draw away, but self-preservation stopped her. She endured the kiss, accepting it, but not adding any pressure of her own. She held her body carefully away from her cousins, in the hopes that she could avoid any escalation of his feelings.  
He didn't seem to notice her restraint, and grew more insistent, he moved onto the couch, his body crushing Antonia beneath his weight, as he forced her lips apart and began to kiss her more intimately.  
Antonia clenched her eyes tightly, trying not to cry out. She had endured worse at the hands of her former husband, and she knew the best way to cope: to block out completely what was happening- to think of something happy, and not think about what the body was being forced to withstand…but it was no use. She was too accustomed now to loving embraces to treat her cousin's advance as anything short of assault, and in her concern for Quintus, she had no happy thoughts to carry her away.  
Quintus. When she felt Commodus' hands on the clasp of her tunica, she thought of her husband instead of herself. She could survive what the emperor would do-but would the General forgive her?  
"Brother?"  
Commodus pulled away from Antonia as though he had been burned. The action happened so quickly that, at first , Antonia thought that she was imagining things. Then she saw Lucilla and gave her a look of pure gratefulness.  
"Senator Falco is here to see you." She said simply.  
"Tell him I am busy." Commodus panted. Antonia could tell that he was aroused, and eager to return to his diversions.  
"He says that it is urgent, Caesar." Lucilla said firmly.  
Commodus seemed to hover a moment between decisions. At last, he sighed. "Very well." He rose and straightened his garments. "Where is he? Guards!"  
Antonia watched as her cousin strode away, a pod of Praetorians forming around his as he walked. As soon as his footsteps had died away ,the tears that she had held inside began to fall. In an instant, Lucilla was beside her, gathering her into her arms like a mother holding a little child.  
"Shhh….." She comforted. "It is okay. He is gone." She allowed Antonia to cry a few moments before asking "Did he touch you?"  
"No, I…not yet. He-" Antonia gasped at the look on the older woman's face. It was commiseration- not sympathy.. "Has he ever…?"  
"Yes." Lucilla said, darkly.   
"Lucilla!" Antonia could not contain the gasp of alarm that sprung to her lips. "But-"  
She said firmly. "So you see why it is so urgent to me that….that….." Antonia nodded.   
"You are safe now." Lucilla said as she rose to her feet. "Commodus will be with the senator for several hours. You should return to your room and pretend to be asleep."  
"Yes. Thank you."  
"I wrote to your husband."  
"What?" Antonia's face scrolled through a myriad of emotions. "How?"  
"By messenger to Ostia. I hope that he will come for you soon. Until then, you must be brave."  
Antonia nodded.  
Hurry Quintus..she said inside her heart. I do not know how long I can wait…  
  
16  
  
Antonia laid awake in her bed, listening to the steady rhythm of the guards' footsteps falling on the marble floor outside her door.  
One, two, three, turn,  
one, two, three, turn….  
She tried to shut the sound out, but it was no use. It drummed in her ears in torturous monotony, reminding her that she was trapped.  
Commodus had not returned from his meeting-at least, he had not called for her, but she knew that her safety was fleeting. Already, faint rays of dawn were beginning to streak the east. How long did she have before she was summoned…breakfast? Midmorning? Noon…?  
It was almost a relief when the pacing finally stopped, and there was a light tapping, followed by the sound of the door creaking open, and a pretty, shy looking Greek maid stepped into the room. The girl blinked, surprised to find her mistress already awake.  
"I am sorry, my lady, but I was told to wake you. There are many preparations to attend to."  
"Preparations?"  
"For your wedding to his majesty."  
Antonia's breath left as though a heavy stone had been dropped on her chest. A wedding. She had almost forgotten Commodus' discussion of a divorce. She couldn't believe that it was true…but if Caesar intended to marry her.  
Her fingers clenched around the sheets as she came to realization: She could never be Quintus' wife again so long as the emperor lived.  
"Are you alright, my lady?"  
"No." Antonia said bleakly, and then, slowly rising to a sitting position, " I did not sleep well."  
"Nerves." The woman said soothingly.  
She was answered only with a blank stare.   
Antonia's heart was pounding. There had to be a way to stop the wedding from happening- to stall for time, at least. If she could wait until Quintus and his troops arrived- surely, he would arrive….Lucilla had sent a letter.  
Lucilla.  
With a sudden sense of dread, Antonia had the sudden fear that her cousin' letter had been followed, or at least reported to the ruler. Lucilla had no reason to correspond with her cousin's husband, and if Commodus already suspected her complicity in a plot….  
Antonia swallowed. Perhaps Quintus would NOT arrive in time. Perhaps that was the only way he could be saved.  
"Where are my sons?" Antonia asked as she followed the servant to the bathing chamber. The deep, marble tub was filled with steaming water. Other slaves were waiting there, and one removed Antonia's sleeping shift, while another unbound her hair.  
"They are in the nursery with master Lucius." The Greek responded, directing Antonia toward the water. "They are doing well."  
"Have they asked for me?"  
The woman hesitated. "I don't know."  
Antonia bit her lip. Titus and Appius were another complication. What would become of them? What could they ever be to Commodus other than pawns to use in securing Antonia's compliance.  
"Is it too cold, my lady?"  
Antonia looked up sharply, finally noticing her shivering.  
"No…no…." she immersed herself the rest of the way into the water, staying below for a moment, relishing the sense of warmth and detachment from the rest of the world that the action brought, wishing that she didn't have to come up to breathe.  
She lay limply in the water as the throng of bath attendants began their cleaning. One attended to her arm, rubbing pumice over her elbow then commencing a manicure, while another combed her hair with scented oil, and a third scraped the soft hair from her legs with a rough-edged strigil.  
Antonia tried to calm her nerves, preparing herself for what was ahead, but it was impossible. How could she forget what the day would bring when , even now, they were preparing her for the bed of Commodus?  
She opened one of her light eyes, studying the sharp features of the slaves, wondering if they knew how she envied them…  
"Cousin."  
Antonia gasped at the sound of Caesar's voice. Around her, the bath maids scattered in confusion, then knelt in the wet floor and waited for the Emperor's permission to continue. He granted it with a casual wave of his hand, and sat on a chair at the edge of the bath.  
"Well, Antonia, how did you sleep?" He asked cheerily.  
"Briefly." She replied, honestly, trying to be discreet as she sank to her neck in the hot water.   
"A pity. You could have used the rest." He hinted darkly. "I am quite anxious for an heir…."  
Antonia felt her skin burn as the emperor's eyes drifted beneath the water.  
"I hope you don't mind that we'll have to abbreviate things a bit. I want to introduce you tomorrow at the games."  
"Introduce me?"  
"As my empress…." Commodus smiled brightly. "The people will be anxious to meet you, of course….but it is a pity that we can't have a proper wedding."  
"A pity." Antonia echoed hollowly.  
"But then, you never were the sort of woman for that kind of thing…more interested in battles than boutiques, your father used to say."  
Antonia forced a smile.   
"-oh well, perhaps its for the best. If the Germans give us any trouble again, I will have you to call up the legions."  
"Yes."  
Commodus noticed, at last, that Antonia was not smiling. "The wedding does not please you?"  
"I have a husband."  
"Had." A look of displeasure was plain on the ruler's features. "I need not remind you, Antonia, that my word is law. You should be grateful."  
"Grateful?" Antonia spat leaning forward. "Grateful that you have stolen me from the man that I love and will force me into an incestuous marriage?"  
Commodus blinked in surprise at her audacity, but his expression quickly changed to one of rage.  
"I have already told you that there can be no help for your husband….if I were you, I would think of my sons."   
  
17  
  
The morning of the planned attack, Maximus was awakened by the sunbeams filtering inside his tent. In the faint light he made out Hildegarde's form pressed against him, her pale skin contrasting with his own golden complexion. They had made love the past night, forgetting their worries in each other's arms but now his mind was focused only on what lay ahead of him and his men. He was calm, relaxed, as he always was before a battle, even if this one was probably the most difficult and important battle of his life.  
After few more moments of peace, Maximus disentangled himself from the sleeping Hildegarde and stood up. He washed, dressed and went outside to check that everything was in order.  
The soldiers greeted him with affection, taking turn to show him how ready they and their equipment were and Maximus had words of praise for all of them. The men looked like their commander: focused, fit and deadly.  
Suddenly the atmosphere of quiet expectation was shattered by a cry from the sentries, "A rider is coming this way!!"   
Immediately the legionaries prepared to receive the unscheduled visitor. Maximus walked quickly to the gates, joined along the way by Quintus, returning from his own round of inspection.  
"Who can be?" he asked.  
"I don't know, but I think it would be better if you and I stay hidden and let Valerius hear the reason for the visit."  
"Good idea."  
When they arrived to the gates, they saw Valerius talking with the newcomer, a man dressed in a simple way and mounted on an exhausted horse, just outside the camp.   
The chief legatus walked back to his superiors and explained, "He is a courier, he says he is carrying a message for General Clarus."  
"What?" exclaimed Quintus, "Nobody knows I am here....except Lucilla and Antonia." he did not know what to think.  
"It could be a trap to bait you to reveal yourself," said the Spaniard, "Let Valerius take the message for you."  
"All right."  
Once more the legatus exited the gates and then returned with a folded papyrus, while the rider trotted away. Quintus took the offered message and looked at the seal, "It is from Lucilla."  
Maximus raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to read it, fully expecting an update about the situation in Rome, but then he frowned when he saw his friend become deadly pale. "What's going on?"  
"It is about Antonia and the children....Commodus has taken them as hostages in the palace." Quintus' voice was devoid of emotion, his brain still adsorbing the shock.  
Maximus swore under his breath, before taking the letter from Quintus' numb hand and scanning it quickly. He recognized Lucilla's distinctive hand....for just few moments he had hoped it was a only a trap, a ruse from the Praetorians who had pursued them three days before to push Quintus to reveal himself but it was not.  
"What do you want to do?" he asked.  
"Lucilla says Commodus knows I am the source of the false famine rumors but he does not knows about the army. I will return to Rome and surrender myself to him, hoping to convince him to release Antonia and the boys. It should distract his attention from the army." Quintus sighed and Maximus posed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in silent support: he could imagine all too well what kind of thoughts were running in his friend's mind.  
"I must go now."  
"Yes." The two men embraced tightly, "Try to stall him, to buy time. I promise you that at dawn we will enter in Rome."  
"I know, Maximus, I know. But promise me you will care for my family if something should happen to me."  
"You don't have to ask for it. Now go."  
Quintus nodded and offered his hands to both Maximus and Valerius, "Strength and honor."  
"Strength and honor," the two officers replied and then watched him walked away, as the soldiers who had gathered around them, moved to let him pass.   
A few moments later Quintus exited the camp, galloping as if pursued by the Furies.  
Maximus recited a brief prayer to the Gods, asking them to protect his friend and his family and then returned to the Praetorium. What had happened had made him realize time was running short and he wanted Hildegarde away from the camp as soon as possible.  
  
*****  
  
Their farewell was brief but heartfelt. They both knew their separation was necessary even if their hearts rebelled against the idea.  
Hildegarde was crying as Maximus delicately freed himself from her embrace. He cupped her face in his hands and looking in her green eyes he said, "I will return, I promise it. And then I will marry you."  
Hildegarde's eyes widened, "What?" she choked out.  
"I will make you my wife," he said in Quadi, "If you still want me for your husband...."  
"Of course I want you!" New tears bathed the woman's cheeks but now they were tears of joy.  
"Then it is decided." Maximus smiled and embraced her again, before leading her outside, where Faustus was already waiting with the horses.  
Maximus helped Hildegarde on the saddle then walked to the centurion, now attired in simple civilian clothes. The two men shook hands, communicating with their eyes, then Faustus mounted his horse.  
"Come with me, my lady," he said to Hildegarde. The two of them began to walk away then Faustus stopped suddenly, "I forgot something, Sir: make him pay for all his many sins. He does not deserve mercy."  
"I will do so Faustus, I will do so."  
Maximus watched them until they disappeared from his view and then concentrated on the last details before they marched out.  
The time to act had almost arrived.  
  
18  
  
It was late afternoon and the sun had just begun its slow descent.  
The Felix Legions were aligned near the camp gates, ready to march to Rome. The atmosphere was full of quiet expectation. A murmur ran along the ranks as Maximus appeared. He cut an impressive figure wearing his full uniform with his polished helmet reflecting in the sparse remaining light.   
He walked Scarto back and forth along the cavalry and infantry lines, seeming to exchange glance of agreement with each individual soldier, then stopped his horse and spoke aloud, "Fatres!!"  
"MAXIMUS!" shouted five thousand voices in unison.  
"What we are going to do -- attack Rome -- has not been done in almost a century, but unfortunately it is the only way to overthrow a tyrant who is destroying everything his great father did. He is destroying everything we fought for -- and died for -- in Germania. We can't allow him to continue or our brothers' deaths would be futile. Rome is the light in this cruel, dark and brutal world. We cannot allow Commodus to snuff it out."  
Murmurs of approval rose from the assembled men.   
"Brothers, today we fight again for Marcus Aurelius and we fight for Rome. Don't ever forget it." Maximus raised his sword to the sky and shouted, "Strength and honor!"  
"STRENGHT AND HONOR!" answered the troops. Their general nodded and the trotted in front of the first line of the cavalry. He pointed with his sword to the road opening in front of them and said, "Let's go."  
As if it were a single man the army moved forward, the sound of horse hooves and hobnailed boots echoing on the stones.   
  
*****  
  
Quintus gripped his reigns nervously as he waited for the man in front of him- a merchant- to finish showing his papers to the guards at the city gate. It would  
have been less risky to pass into the city during the day, but the General felt, for some reason he could not articulate fully, that Antonia was in trouble- and he didn't have a moment to lose.  
"Papers." The guard said as Quintus moved up the queue. Clarus merely nodded to the imperial household ribbons- compliments of Antonia's ancestry- tied to the bridle of his horse and hoped that the man would wave him through.  
"Business?" The guard asked in a monotone voice that, at least, gave Quintus hope that he had not already noticed something amiss.   
"I'm returning home." Quintus said evenly, then he faked a yawn. "I hope that my wife isn't too tired."  
The guard smiled slightly, then waved the soldier through. Breathing a sigh of relief, Quintus kicked the horse in the flanks, and headed into the city.  
The streets were very crowded as he headed toward the center of the city, heavy carts- laden with every sort of produce struggled through the streets, and Quintus picked his way carefully. He left his horse at the stable at the foot of his hill, and then began the long climb toward the top. He debated, momentarily, whether to go to an inn and send a message. Then he determined against it- it would take too long. He would stop by his house to collect his weapons, and then make his move.  
"Master!" Pallas said as he threw open the door. "The mistress and the young-"  
"I know." Quintus said tersely. "Wake my steward and send him to my room. I need my armor and my sword. Get a message to Pladitus and as him to meet me here in one hour."  
"But-"  
Quintus continued speaking, moving quickly through the house toward his room. "I want the children's things packed at once. See that my seal ring-"  
"But master." Pallas waved his hands in agitation as Quintus continued toward the massive atrium. "I-"  
"- is in the top chest. I've sent messages to my bankers but-"  
"Master!"  
"General Clarus."  
The last voice did not belong to Pallas, the revelation finally causing Quintus to look up. He swallowed. There were a dozen Praetorians in the room, their swords drawn.  
They had been waiting. Quintus shot a look at his servant, who shrugged miserably, and then he rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. Could he take them all? Should he try?  
"General Clarus, I am placing you under Imperial Arrest. You are charged with treason. Caesar has commanded that you appear before him at once."  
Quintus' grip on his gladius tightened, and then released. Now was not the time to fight. If he did not struggle, perhaps there was still a chance to bring the emperor to reason.  
Perhaps…  
  
19  
  
It was almost dark when Antonia appeared in the Curia. Her hair was neatly plaited, and her features cleverly accented with kohl and rouge. She was clad as an empress, a heavy purple gown covering her from head to foot, and the flaming vermilion veil atop her head, but if the assembled senators could see beneath the fine fabric, they would know that the beautiful eyes were not those of a happy bride- they were those of a condemned woman, marching toward her end. Antonia had spent the last few hours trying to gather the courage to end her life, rather than defile her love by submitting to this monstrous union, but her maternal instincts were too strong. She did not doubt, her own person no longer within his reach, that Commodus' rage would spill out on her precious boys- and Quintus, if he were even still alive. Her cousin's threat had been clear. Titus and Appius might be the only part of Quintus that she had left, and she could not bear to part with them. Commodus was waiting for her at the front of the room, flanked by Arramus, captain of the Praetorian, Lucilla, and Falco. His face was very calm, and his eyes deadly dark. One of the Pontifices of the city began to speak the ceremony, and Commodus stepped forward to take his cousin's hand. Antonia recoiled at the touch- so cold and weak.  
"You are beautiful." He whispered under his breath, pretending to listen to the priest. "I am pleased that you came around."  
"I do what I must." Antonia answered. "You can make me do this, but you cannot make me love you…I will never stop loving Quintus."  
She stifled a cry as her cousin's grip on her hand grew painfully tight. "Your devotion to your EX-husband is touching, Antonia." He hissed, "I knew that you would be thinking of him, so I made sure that he was here to watch."  
"What?" Antonia's voice was louder than she intended, and the priest stopped abruptly, arching an eyebrow at Caesar, who angrily motioned for him to continue.  
Heedless of her cousin, she turned and scanned the room anxiously….and then she saw him.  
Quintus' condition almost made Antonia cry out again. His face was battered, with one was swollen nearly shut. His lips were cracked, and a trickle of blood was oozing down his neck. Only his expression was familiar, his jaw was tightly set, his eyes straight ahead: a soldier who would never give his enemy the satisfaction of seeing him in defeat.  
"What have you done to him?" She asked, angrily.  
"Only part of what he deserved. Tomorrow, when we are presented at the games, he will get the rest."  
"At the games?"  
"Yes. I have arranged a special entertainment…in honor of our wedding, quite fitting, don't you think?"  
The priest coughed, and Commodus looked forward. He glared at the man, as if to scold him for the interruption.  
"Where you are Gaia…." The older man prompted.  
Suddenly remembering, Commodus answered. "Where you are Gaia, I am Gaius…."  
The priest looked at Antonia, and she bit her lip.  
Time seemed to stand still as images flashed through her mind: the tearful day as a little girl when she had come across Quintus kissing a campfollower in his tent…. the first night that they had made love on the floor of a barbarian hut…. their own wedding day…the present: Quintus' battered body, sitting behind her in the crowd…their children Titus  
and Appius, just taken from their baths, smelling sweet and clean….  
"I would think about my sons…" Commodus' words came suddenly to her mind, and her heart seemed to stop for a moment.  
Forgive me, my love…. She called to Quintus. She could not spare him, but perhaps, if she were careful, a part of their love could live on. "Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia." She whispered miserably.  
There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, and then it was over.  
Antonia's head dipped forward as the heavy golden crown of laurels was set upon her head.   
"Let what I have said be recorded, " The emperor declared pompously. "I Lucius Marcus Aurelius Commodus Antoninus, ruler of the Roman Empire, Pontifex Maximus, deified Caesar ordain this woman Augusta Antonia, empress of Rome."  
A ripple of surprise ran through the assembled senators. Even Antonia's eyes widened slightly. The title of Augusta was more than merely symbolic. It placed her in even position with the Chief of the Vestal Virgins and would survive even the Caesar's own death. It was a complete emancipation from guardianship, and many other privileges as well…and made Titus and Appius' safety even more uncertain.  
"Hail Caesar and Augusta Antonia." One of the senators- no doubt on the payroll of the emperor, called loudly.  
"Hail Caesar and Augusta Antonia" the other chimed in quickly.  
Commodus nodded with pleasure…and then he led his bride away.  
  
*****  
  
Quintus was hauled to his feet with the blunt end of a gladius by one of the Praetorians who had witnessed the events. The fact that he rose to his feet at all was attributable only to his own weariness of life, and not with any fear of pain or reprisals. Antonia was gone. He had watched, with his own eyes, as Commodus had taken her to wife. Perhaps even now…. The general struggled to block the images from his mind. Whatever had happened, he knew that Antonia was suffering. She had done this for his sons, it was the only reason. At least he had the comfort of knowing that they were alive.  
  
*****  
  
Hildegarde paced anxiously in front of the fireplace in her room. Faustus looked up from the piece of meat that he was gnawing and gave her a sympathetic smile. He could tell that she was nervous. After speaking with her during their travel to the inn near Ostia where the General had told him to wait for news, and understanding the sort of woman that she was, the centurion found himself amazed that she hadn't already stolen a horse and ridden into Rome herself.  
Hildegarde knew what the man was thinking, and didn't care. She could sense, in her heart, that this day would determine her happiness once and for all. If Maximus survived, he would return, and they could start their life together anew. She didn't know where, or how, but she trusted that he would make things work out. At last, Match would have a father- a man that he could be proud of. At last, she would no longer be alone.  
Please return to me Maximus, she whispered a prayer as she finally stopped pacing.  
"You should rest." Faustus said, rising from his chair. "We will know in the morning….one way or the other."  
"So soon?"  
"Bad news travels fast."  
"Bad news?!?"  
"Depending upon your perspective, of course."  
Hildegarde nodded, waving farewell to him before turning to the door that housed her own room for the night. It was spare, but clean and neatly furnished. Still, it seemed empty without Maximus.  
Maximus…  
Hildegarde was counting the hours until they were together again. He was finally returning to her…finally ready to belong to her, as he never had before. The prospect of happiness spread before her like a glorious sunrise…..but only if things went as planned.  
  
*****  
  
The march was long but without problems. Maximus had ordered his men to keep their weapons sheathed, and to proceed quickly but discreetly, so as to avoid creating a threatening impression in the few people, mainly merchants returning from Rome, that they met along the way. The disciplined army raised the onlookers' curiosity but to anyone who was bold enough to ask them where they were going, Maximus replied that they were simply transferring to another camp.   
  
20  
  
Quintus was sitting on a low stone bench, his head resting against the wall, trying desperately not to think about what was going on between Commodus and Antonia. The images the thoughts conjured were too much for him. He tried to concentrate on his own situation. He was closed in a small room without any windows, a cell used for the punishment of the palace slaves. The bench he was on was the only furniture. Quintus hugged his knees with his arms, and tested his right boot, reassuring himself for the umpteenth time that his knife was still in its hiding place. It was and he sighed with relief, blessing the old craftsman who had made the boots. That knife could be his salvation, if he caught the right moment to use it.  
A noise outside the door made him stiffen. Were the Praetorian coming to beat him again? He stood up and waited. The door was unbolted and then pushed open and three figures appeared. Two were clearly guards, but the third was a woman, covered with a dark cloak which let him see only her eyes......familiar eyes.  
"Here is your dinner," said one of the Praetorians, dropping a wooden plate onto the bench, "Caesar want you to be in form for tomorrow games." snickered the man, "And here is someone to tend your eyes. Don't cause problem or I will shut your other eye too." He hung a torch to the wall, then shoved the woman inside. The water in the bowl she was carrying spilled on the ground as she almost lost her balance.  
Quintus did not comment but stayed still until the door closed. The woman imitated him, keeping silent until they heard the steps of the guards walking away and then she hissed, "Why did you come?"  
Quintus sucked on his breath upon hearing Lucilla's angry voice. "You know why I came, you sent me a message..."  
"I sent it to you to alert you about what was happening and to advise you to be quick in moving the legion- not to have you run here and get arrested!"  
"I had to do it....I could not leave Antonia alone as Commodus' pawn." Quintus was agitated but like Lucilla he was keeping his voice low.  
The Augusta shook his head, "She is strong, she could have resisted to my brother for several days, but what now? With you as a prisoner, who will lead the army? Will they attack under another officer's command?"  
"Yes." he replied as matter of fact then whispered, so low she had to bend her head toward him to hear, "They will attack at dawn."  
"Do you trust their leader? Is he capable? The senators and I don't want another tyrant."  
In spite of his situation Quintus smiled, "You could not find a better man in all the Empire."  
Lucilla looked at him in a strange way....Had she surmised about who he was talking about? Her next words told him that she didn't. "I hope you are right. Our lives, and especially yours, are in his hands." she sighed then added, "Now come here and let me clean your eye."  
Quintus sat down on the bench and let her tend to his wounds. As she worked he asked, "How is Antonia?"  
"As well as she can be in her situation. The marriage banquet is still going on and she is eating very little. You surely know she is bearing all this for your children....and for you."  
"Yes...She is trying to protect us, but to what a price?" Quintus turned his head away, as his throat constricted so much he was not able to go on. He felt Lucilla squeezing his shoulder.  
"I hope to be able to save her from the final indignity….at least for tonight" she murmured.  
"What?" Quintus turned to look at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "How?"  
"I...I put something in my brother cup. It should knock him down before ....before..."  
Quintus nodded, he too unable to say or even think about the event. "Thank you, Lucilla."  
She smiled faintly and opened her mouth to say something but the door being unbolted stopped her.  
"Get out slave," called the Praetorian, "Our guest must rest now!" He laughed aloud and then looked impatiently as moving slowly to imitate a much older person's movements, Lucilla picked up her bowl and left the room.  
  
*****  
  
Antonia shivered as she stepped into the Imperial bedchamber. The afternoon was warm, but she could not feel it. She was standing in a shadow darker than that cast by the heavy velvet draperies that surrounded Caesar's bed- the shadow of doom that had crept over everything that she loved and tainted it with her cousins' delusions.  
He would be here soon.  
Antonia' s stomach quivered, and for a moment, she thought she might be sick. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her two sweet sons...on Quintus. He was still alive, at least. Would he ever forgive her for what she had to do?  
"My lady?"  
Antonia looked up sharply as the slave she hadn't noticed before stepped into view. It was the Greek maid from the bath. She was holding up a filmy nightgown. "You should change. Your husband will be here soon."  
"My husband?" Antonia's heart leapt with joy, and her features transfigured with excitement- and then abruptly fell. She means Commodus...Commodus is my husband now. Antonia looked down over her body, the endless streams of purple silk that fanned out around her legs, and the heavy golden ring upon her finger.   
Abruptly, she began to cry.  
"Your majesty!" The main cried in alarm. "What is it? May I get you something?"  
"Nothing." Antonia said quietly, holding out her arms so that her dress could be stripped away. "Nothing you can do...."  
Antonia barely moved as the maid removed her heavy ceremonial attire, and slid her into the gown. The sheer fabric of lavender gauze interwoven with gold, skimmed the tops of her thighs, hiding nothing. The Augusta shivered again, feeling, in spite of her expensive (if insubstantial) garment, like a naked slave just pulled down from the block and being herded toward her master.  
Apt. She thought absently.  
The maid removed her shoes and rings, and then unbound her hair, calling for the assistance of another servant began threading flowers through her hair. At last, she was led to the bed.  
"Good night, Augusta." The Greek whispered, pity, and not amusement in her eyes.   
"Goodnight." Antonia echoed quietly.  
And then she was alone.   
Antonia listened to the soft footfalls of the women grow faint, before she allowed herself to cry again. The situation was very like her first wedding night, and her thoughts drifted there. She remembered vividly waiting in a strange bedroom for Balbus Cressidus to appear. She remembered the sickening stink of alcohol on his breath, and the oily slickness of his hands as they roamed her flesh.  
She had survived.  
But that was before Quintus, before she knew what love between a man and a woman could be like. How could she allow Commodus to profane the memory of their love? Of the love that had brought her such contentment, and brought Titus and Appius to life?  
The sound of the bedroom door swinging open brought Antonia's attention once again to the present. She used the edge of the sheets to dab away her tears, and then she sat up stiffly, her lips in a firm, hard line.  
Commodus entered the room on the Arm of a Praetorian. He was moving slowly, his face looking dull and rather glazed.  
"Too much to drink." the Praetorian mouthed, sotto voice, and then he deposited the emperor on the bed. The man's eyes lingered appreciatively on the outline of Antonia's breasts, clearly visible through the sheer fabric.  
"You are dismissed." Commodus said tersely.  
Antonia looked away, ashamed to admit that she would prefer even the leering gaze of the guard to being left alone with her cousin.  
When they were finally alone, Commodus moved closer to her on the bed, peeling back the sheet to expose her to his view.  
"Antonia..." he murmured appreciatively, leaning forward to kiss her collarbone. The empress steeled herself not to recoil against his touch. She tried to pretend that she was far away...but her attention was drawn by something strange. Commodus didn't smell of wine at all. Thinking back, she couldn't remember him drinking excessively during the meal...but his movements were unsteady, and his dark eyes were as wide as though he had just awoken from a long nap.  
"My Antonia...." he whispered again, moving his caress upwards along her neck. His left hands began to move along her shoulders and back, drawing her closer to him while the right cupped her breast, squeezing the nipple between his forefinger and thumb.  
Commodus was surprisingly gentle. Antonia realized, with the same shock that she had noted the sincerity of his belief that the people of Rome loved him, that he meant for her to enjoy it- that the emperor truly cared for her. Whether his feelings were motivated by a belief that their marriage was what Marcus Aurelius had always intended, or something deeper, she sensed that he truly loved her. If the circumstance that had brought her to his bed had been less terrible, and their relationship less uncomfortably close, she might have enjoyed his actions' but no matter how tenderly his fingertips traced her flesh, or how expertly he moved his lips against her own, he was not Quintus. He could never be Quintus, and as long as her love was languishing in the dungeons beneath the palace, she could never forgive him.  
Commodus' kisses slowly became more insistent, and his explorations more bold. Antonia felt a tremor of revulsion as his fingers slid between her legs, trying to coax a sign of pleasure from her unresponsive body. Even before he stripped away his clothing and revealed the throbbing prominence of his desire, Antonia could sense the growing urgency in his body. He desired her, craved her...there would be no more escape. She sucked in her breath as she felt Caesar's hands on the hem of her shift- the last barrier between their skin. His movements were very slow and clumsy, but his intentions were clear. At last, she was fully exposed to him, and he pressed her body tightly against his own.  
"Wife..." he sighed happily, running his hand along her side. He stopped at her stomach, cupping the soft swell of flesh almost reverently. "We will have sons..." he promised. "Wonderful sons...and they will rule for a thousand years...a hundred thousand..." His speech was slightly slurred, and Antonia watched him closely.  
"We......"  
Before he could finish his words, the emperor slumped forward, dead asleep.  
Poison. Antonia realized at last. Lucilla must have slipped it into his cup during one of the toasts....The empress struggled free of Caesar's body and then carefully checked his pulse. He was still alive, breathing evenly. Lucilla had not killed him after all...perhaps she did not have the courage, or perhaps she lacked the means. At any rate, Antonia had been granted a few more hours of reprieve.  
  
21  
  
Before the first light of the new day broke the horizon, the Felix Legions came in view of Rome and its closed gates. Maximus called for a halt and then nodded to the first line of his riders. Those men quickly covered their uniforms with dark cloaks and trotted to the gates.  
The city guards, sleepy from their long, wakeful night, went to gates as they heard the loud banging against the massive wooden doors.  
"Who is it?" one asked in a bored tone.  
"We are merchants...we are carrying goods for the market." answered the leader of disguised legionaries.  
"It is too early. You must wait for dawn.....I can't see you in this darkness."   
"We can't wait. We are carrying fresh fish from the sea to the imperial Palace...The emperor will be angry if it begins to stink." the soldier acted well, putting the right note of urgency and fear in his voice.  
The guards looked at each other. Caesar's tantrums were well known and they did not want to risk being at the receiving end of them.  
"All right," one of them said at last, while together with his colleague he began to unbolt the doors, "We will let you inside...."  
Those were their last words.  
As soon as the opening was large enough the soldiers slipped inside and quickly killed the guards. Then they swung the gates open and gestured to their companions.   
Maximus slowly unsheathed his sword, imitated by his men.  
At the cry, "Roma Victor!" the cavalry moved forward and entered the city.  
  
*****  
  
Once inside the city walls, the Felix Legion separated. Groups of soldiers run quickly to take control of the various gates: per order of General Maximus nobody could exit or enter Rome. The rest of the army led by Maximus marched to the Palatine hill, the imperial Palace and the barracks that housed the Praetorians.  
The noise of so many horses trotting on the paved roads brought the people out of their houses to discover what was happening but the sight of so many soldiers, all in battle armor made the onlookers run back in the safety of indoors.  
Maximus led his men along the labyrinth of roads until they reached the Palatine hill. The majestic form of the imperial palace was clearly visible at his top. He raised his hand and commanded the halt. He turned to his legionaries, "Are you ready?"  
"YES SIR!!" they shouted.  
"Then let's go, the moment of truth is arrived."  
Maximus turned his horse and ordered, "Forward!"  
The Felix Legion threw itself to gallop and charged.  
  
*****  
  
The Praetorians guarding the gates of the imperial palace almost did not believe their eyes when they saw the horses charging them. The view of a Roman legion coming full speed against their position was so totally incredible and unthinkable they did not react until it was too late. The men and beasts turned their full force against ornate but insubstantial gate and threw it to the ground.  
"ATTACK!!!" shouted one of the Praetorians before his head was separated from his neck by a sword blow.  
The Felix Legion scattered in the Palace gardens, quickly blocking the escape routes and then heading to the Praetorians barracks: the more guards they could eliminate or contain in their quarters, the more likely that the battle would be brief, lowering the risk of the battle spilling into the city streets and involving civilians.  
Maximus was at the head of his men, fighting efficiently as usual, not letting rage or impatience to cloud his judgement. He wanted to go inside the building and find Commodus but first he needed to be sure the greatest part of the Praetorians were neutralized.  
  
21  
  
Meanwhile, on the other end of the palace two guards had just opened the door of Quintus' cell. The general slowly raised his head and looked at them with weary eyes. To the newcomers he looked like the portrait of a man broken in body and spirit, but that was not the case. Even if he hadn't sleep and was consumed by worries, Quintus was far from being defeated. He only wanted to give that impression, to lull his captors to commit some mistake.   
The Praetorians entered the little room and Quintus recognized one of them. He was Arramus, the commander of the imperial guards.  
"You, get up! Caesar wants you to be transferred to the Coliseum this morning." he said.  
Quintus slowly stood and did not resist when he was grabbed by HIS elbow and roughly shoved against a wall.  
"Argh," commented Arramus with a disgusted tone, "If you don't change perk up you will give a very poor spectacle in the arena. Caesar will be disappointed."  
He laughed then motioned to the other guard to take Quintus away while he followed behind them.   
The general obeyed, still acting docile, keeping his head down, both to maintain his ruse and to hide his satisfied expression. His plan had worked. They had committed the mistake he was hoping for by failing to bind his hands. Now he only had to wait for the right moment to use his knife.  
They walked along a series of hallways until the reached the central area of the palace. A strange noise of commotion filtered from outside through the widows and the two Praetorians stopped, exchanging a look, "What's going on?" muttered Arramus as the noise became louder and nearer.  
One of his men burst on the scene and shouted, "Prefect! We are attacked, Sir!"  
"WHAT?!?"  
"Yes, Sir. The gardens have been invaded my men on horses...They are soldiers!"  
"It is not possible! You are mistaken!" and without adding a second glance to the prisoner, Arramus ran away, demonstrating once more his arrogance and incompetence. The younger Praetorian followed his superior, leaving Quintus alone with the other guard. The noises from outside continued and the man looked clearly disturbed and uncertain, not knowing what to do, until he met his captive eyes. The general's ironic glance seemed to snap him back to reality and he pushed the other man roughly, "I will teach you to show more respect, dead-man!"  
Quintus feigned stumbling under the violent push and fell on his knees.  
"Get up!" commanded the Praetorian, bending down to grab him for his elbow.  
It was his last error. Quick as lighting Quintus pulled out his knife from his boot and with a backward move planted it in his captor's throat. The man was dead even before the general regained his feet. He quickly picked up the Praetorian's sword, put again the knife back in his boot and then looked around. There was no one in sight, the palace looked deserted. Probably, he thought, all the Praetorians were outside fighting against the Felix Legion or were protecting Commodus, while the servants were gone somewhere to hide. Quintus gripped the sword hilt more tightly and began to dash along on of the corridors leading inside the deepest part of the palace. He had no intention to leave without Antonia and the children.  
  
*****  
  
Antonia awoke with a start. She had heard something…at least she thought that she had-shouting somewhere far away…  
"Antonia?".  
At the sound of Commodus' voice, she dove beneath the blankets again, pretending to be asleep…  
"Antonia…"  
The Emperor's lips pressed warmly against her shoulder, and she sighed.  
There hadn't been noises after all. It was Commodus, he was awake.  
Antonia lay very still as Caesar renewed his efforts from the night before. She wanted to maintain her ruse of being asleep for as long as possible, but  
it was not to be. Almost unconsciously, she gasped as she felt his hand slide between her thighs and renew their ministration from the night before. Against her leg, she could feel the hot pressure of the emperor's excite flesh.  
"It's time to wake up…." He whispered silkily against her ear.  
Reluctantly, Antonia met his eyes.  
"…not technically still our wedding night, but….we'll manage…"  
Commodus rolled forward using his hands to part her knees. Any hint of incapacity was now gone. "I've waited so long…." He murmured as he continued to touch her. "So terribly long…"  
"Caesar!"  
Commodus' expression showed almost disbelief as he registered the hail of his guards. Without waiting for an answer, the man barreled inside the room and Commodus pounced on Antonia, shielding her from view. "What is it?" He spat, annoyed with yet another interruption.  
"Sir, you have to go…"  
"Go where?"  
"Away…your majesty, we're under attack!!!"  
"What?! You're talking nonsense!"  
"But it is true, Caesar!" It was Arramus' voice. He had just burst inside and without any regard for the emperor modesty, began pulling him away from Antonia. "You must dress, sire. And quickly."  
The Praetorian's urgent tone finally penetrated Commodus' mind and he rolled away from Antonia, who hastily pulled the sheet around her shoulders.  
As he dressed Caesar asked, "Who is attacking us? The barbarians?"  
"No, sire, it is one of our legions." the Prefect's voice died.  
"One of the legions?" Commodus frowned, then his face contorted in ire, "Clarus!! I bet it is he behind this! Where is he? I want to kill him with my hands!"  
"We were transferring him to the Colosseum when the attack began.."  
"Find him! He will stop his men- or I will kill his sons in front of him!"  
"NO!" Antonia cried, sitting up.  
Commodus looked at her, "I am sorry my dear but any war has its victims. We will have more children, don't worry." And with that, he turned on his heels and walked away followed by his guards, who locked the door behind them.  
As soon as they disappeared, Antonia jumped out the bed, dressed and then began to look for a way to escape. The bedroom was very elegant but contained nothing of use for someone wanting to break down a door. Antonia ran to the windows but the ground was too far, she would probably kill herself if she tried to jump- not to mention the fact they opened into the garden which was now transformed in a deadly battle ground.  
Frantic with worry for her husband and children, she finally picked up a chair and began to smash it against the massive wooden door. When the chair broke, Antonia selected another and went on with her pounding, heedless of her tiring muscles or the wood splinters which imbedded in her delicate hands....She had to escape that room....  
  
22  
  
Even if he had never been in the private areas of the palace, Quintus recognized them from the quality of the furniture and the intricate frescos on the walls. Methodically he began to open all the doors he found along his way, searching for Antonia and the children and praying the Gods it was not too late.  
Suddenly he heard rapid foot steps coming in his direction and he quickly hid inside the closest room. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, he saw Commodus, Arramus and another guard walk past him.  
"Find Clarus and find his sons," Caesar was saying and Quintus felt a shiver run along his spine at the furious tone. The men disappeared behind a corner and he stepped out, not knowing what to do: Should he go after them and find his children or should he first try to find Antonia?   
A loud banging coming from the end of the hallway claimed his attention. His trained ears recognized the sound of wood pounding against wood....as if someone was trying to break down a door.  
"Antonia!" he whispered as realization stuck him and he ran in the direction of the noise. In few moments he located the correct door and unbolted it. The sight which greeted him was frightening: Antonia was there wearing only a filmy tunic, her hair loose and wild, a broken chair held in her hand ready to smash again against the door.  
As soon as she saw him, his wife let the chair fall and ran into his arms, "Quintus!"  
"Antonia!" he embraced her tightly, then looked deeply in her eyes cupping her face with his hands, "Are you all right? Did he....?"  
"No." She shook her head to reinforce her words.  
"Thank the Gods."  
"Quintus, we must find Titus and Appius, Commodus wants to use them against you...He think you are responsible of this attack!"   
"I know....I heard him." Quintus looked around him then said, "You lived in this palace, you know it...Where do you think the children are?"  
"Probably in the nursery...It is on the second floor."  
"Then let's go! Guide me!"  
Antonia nodded and began to show him the right way.  
  
*****  
  
Maximus swung his sword high in the air and brought it down heavily on the black-plumed helmet of a Praetorian. The man stumbled for a moment, and then he fell, a trickle of blood dripping down along his nose. Maximus had barely waited for the man to fall before he pressed forward. Rather than abating, the battle was growing more violent. The element of surprise, which had carried the Felix Legions easily through the first phase of their attack, was beginning to wear off. The Praetorians were slowly finding order, and he was darkly aware of the fact that, as soon as the rest of the guard were notified to report to the palace his legions, aside from those left to protect the gate, would be trapped inside the palace walls. Only one thing could end the battle- killing Commodus. Without a leader to follow, the Praetorians would have no reason to fight. Whatever they were, the Praetorians were keenly aware of the individual power wielded by the Caesars- and how quickly that power could be turned against them if they supported the wrong man. In a vacuum, the guards would fall back and bide their time until they had someone new to serve.  
Maximus dodged another sword blow and then forced his way onto a set of steps leading into the palace. Already, the marble was slick with blood. "I'm going in." He said to Valerius. They didn't have a minute to lose. If Commodus managed to escape, all would be lost.  
The General forced his way to a door, only to curse under his breath as he found it locked. No doubt the servants had barricaded themselves inside, hoping that the battle would pass them over. He looked around, careful to watch for any attackers from the rear. Noting a half-opened window overhead, he looked for a foothold in the rock. Sheathing his sword, he scrambled up the edge of the wall and over to the windowsill. Maximus fell to the ground inside with a thud. He reached for his shoulder, shimmering in pain where he still bore the scar from the Praetorian's swordblow in Germania.  
Another blow- someone had hit him on the legs with a stick, and he jumped instantly to his feet, his sword flashing in the pale light.  
"Please! Leave us!"  
The cry was not from a Praetorian, but a frightened girl. Squinting in the dimness, Maximus could see that he was in one of the kitchens. Behind him, a fat Egyptian woman brandished the broom that she had struck him with before, while a young girl cowered behind her.  
"I'm not going to hurt you." Maximus said, quickly. "I need to find the emperor. Where is he?"  
The Egyptian only snorted, but the General was amazed when the girl she was protecting stepped forward. "He wanted to find the children and General Clarus ."  
"Hush, Circe!" The Egyptian snapped.  
"They'll go to the nursery". The girl continued, heedless. The look of defiance on her face displayed the relish with which she betrayed her master.  
"Nursery? Where?"  
"I'll show you..."  
  
23  
  
Quintus struggled to keep up with Antonia as she flew through the palace corridors. She chose to take the servant passageways- favorite routes of her youth when she and her cousin would play hide and seek. Their dim lighting was no obstacle to her, but General Clarus felt as though he stumbled at every turn.  
"Here!" Antonia said at last, pushing back a curtain and slipping into a room.  
Quintus blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. The room that they were in did not resemble any nursery that he had ever seen. The only thing that betrayed the intention that children should inhabit the space was the fact that the furniture and contents had been fashioned in a miniature scale. Tiny reclining couches centered around a table and, in the center of the room, small replicas of the imperial beds were covered with opulent quilts and pillows.  
Beside him, Antonia only glanced at the interior. She could see instantly that one thing was missing- the children.  
"Augusta?"  
Both Quintus and his former wife looked to the corner as a slave came out of hiding.   
"Where are they?" Antonia demanded, her eyes full of fire. Where are my sons?"  
"They are gone."  
"The Emperor-?" their mother began, her voice choked with fear.  
"No, the lady Lucilla. She left with the twins and Master Lucius before dawn."  
"Where? Where did she take them?"  
"I do not know, my lady. She left instructions that we were to carry on as if they were here..." The woman nodded her head at the little breakfast trays that had been sent from the kitchen. "Could she have known about the battle?"  
Quintus searched the woman's face, hoping that they could trust her sincerity.  
"The children are safe." He murmured. "Lucilla has kept them out of harm's way. I must return to the battle. Wait here with-"  
"General Clarus."  
Abruptly, the Quintus fell silent as Commodus' unmistakable voice filled the room. Quintus raised his sword, moving protectively in front of Antonia, but his heart sank as a ring of Praetorians, utterly unconcerned with his weapon, slid into a ring around them.  
"Antonia." Commodus said, tilting his head in her direction. "Your resourcefulness constantly amazes me. I had thought it would take you at least another few moments to break out of the room..." He took a step closer, walking fearlessly to the point of the soldier's sword. Quintus' hand twitched with the desire to thrust it forward into Caesar's chest, but he was too aware of the fact that the Praetorians behind him would surely pounce forward at the slightest twitch. "...and you, Clarus. You aren't resourceful. You're something else....persistent? You always seem to want to take things that belong to me...you and your friends." His face grew very dark at a fleeting memory. "Guards, escort the Lady Antonia back to our chambers. Put her under guard and see that she stays put. Tie her to the bed if you have to."  
"Yes, sire."  
Antonia struggled as four pairs of hands seemed to seize her at once and pull her away from Quintus.   
"Go." Quintus said softly, urging her not to fight and bring more pain upon herself.  
The guards led her away.  
"And now you." Commodus said, shrewdly stepping away now that Antonia's absence gave Quintus no incentive to still his hand. "What shall I do with you....I was just going to kill you but that seems like...not enough. You've tried so hard to vex me in every manner that it seems to deserve some sort of reward....torture?" His lips curled up in an evil grin. "Another beating, perhaps....or maybe something more subtle." The smile grew. Perhaps you would like to watch while I enjoy Antonia tonight...." He taunted.  
Quintus' jaw merely twitched. "You won't live until tonight."  
"Won't I?" Commodus went to the window. "I think that you are the one who will be crossing the Styx...your legions are almost defeated...there is no one left to guide them."  
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."  
Everyone turned at once to see where the voice had come from, but the Praetorian nearest turned his head a bit too slowly, and the flash of metal was the last thing he ever saw.  
"It's impossible." Commodus growled at the figure before him. "You're dead....they told me in Germania-"  
"Don't believe everything that you hear" Maximus' eyes were glowering with a murderous and determined light as he slowly advanced in the room.  
Commodus began to back away, the Praetorians forming a protective shield around him. "Kill them!"   
Maximus and Quintus exchanged a look and a nod, deciding offence is the best defense and threw themselves against the guards. The combat was fast and furious: the two generals fought side by side, attacking their opponents and protecting each other with absolute trust in their respective abilities. They were outnumbered by the Praetorians but their skills with the sword were better and, more important, they were motivated by stronger reason than money or fear as the guards were. Slowly but surely Maximus and Quintus began to had the upper hand in the combat, as the Praetorians fell one by one at their feet.  
As soon as Commodus realized the situation was turning against him, he whirled around to run away.  
"Don't let him go!" Quintus said to Maximus.  
"I won't leave you alone!" his friend replied, delivering another killing blow.  
"Don't worry about me.....Go to take him, make him pay for all the evil he committed!"  
"All right, I will go but- don't you dare to die!" and speaking thus Maximus threw himself on Commodus' tracks.  
He pursued the escaping man along a series of corridors and deserted rooms until they arrived in a large hall full of high windows. One of the glass panes had been broken by the body of a Praetorian lying in a heap of blood, his hand still gripping a sword.  
Maximus stopped and looked as Commodus taking note of the place he had ended up. The two enemies stared at each other as Caesar realized there was no way out except the corridor they had come from which was now blocked by Maximus. He backed to the broken window as Maximus advanced in the room.  
"Stop running like a coward and fight....if you can." the general taunted.  
"Are you insinuating that I have no courage?" Commodus' voice was full of rage.  
"Oh, no, you have a lot of courage: The courage to kill a frail, old man, the courage to order the death of an innocent woman and child, the courage to terrify the people in this palace and in this city." Maximus said sarcastically, "But you don't have the courage to bear the weight of your responsibilities."  
"How do you dare to tell me that!" Commodus shouted, on the verge of loosing his control. Maximus saw him look at the sword of the fallen Praetorian and said, still advancing,  
"Go on, take it. I don't attack disarmed men...even if I could make exception for you."  
Commodus bent and quickly retrieved the sword, finally deciding to confront his nemesis. "I will kill you...I will make you pay for all the grief you caused to me, stealing my father's affection and then my birthright." he said with rage.  
"I never stole them from you.....It was you who threw them away- it was all your fault." Maximus replied quietly, making the younger man even angrier.  
The two opponents began to circle each other with measured steps, each of them baiting the other to make the first move. In the end Commodus' nerves gave out and he attacked. Sparks flew as metal hit metal and the two men stared at each other with hate. Then they both stepped back before charging again.  
The two men began to move back and forth in the room, attacking and retreating in turn, without either of them showing a clear superiority over the other: Maximus was more skilled but he was tired from the earlier battle while Commodus' freshness was balanced by the fact he was letting his rage guide him, and not waiting to use his mind to think.   
Suddenly Maximus slipped on a piece of glass and fell to the ground. Commodus was on him at once, ready for a killing blow but the general rolled away at the last possible moment, and the sword only scratched his arm. However the rush of adrenaline fueled Maximus' strength and he found new energy inside himself. A flurry of blows fell on Commodus, driving backwards until he found himself trapped against the wall. Maximus did not stop, continuing his relentless attack until Commodus' reactions was not fast enough to deflect the umpteenth blow: the gladius' blade hit him where his neck met his shoulder, practically hewing him in two. He was dead even before his body crumbled at Maximus' feet.  
The general slowly lowered his sword, barely believing it was finally over. Breathing heavily he stepped away from the rapidly pooling blood and leaned his back against the wall , closing his eyes as he gasped for breath.  
"You are avenged my loves," he whispered thinking about Selene and his son, before turning his thought to Marcus Aurelius, "And you can now rest in peace, Father, Commodus has ended his power to destroy your dream."  
The sound of running foot pulled the general back to reality and he opened his eyes, gripping his sword's hilt more tightly.  
But it was not necessary, Quintus appeared through the door, followed by several members of the Felix Legion.  
"General!", a centurion, called running to the Spaniard.   
Maximus waved his hand, indicating that he was tired, but not injured. Only then did the other men notice Commodus.  
"The emperor…." The centurion breathed, backing away.  
"Spread the word." Maximus said lowly. "He leaned over and reached for the golden laurel wreath that Commodus had worn upon his head. "Show them this. They will believe you that he is dead."  
The man nodded and hurried off.  
"Antonia." Quintus said quickly. "Perhaps she could help with the Praetorians."  
Maximus nodded. "Yes…go!" He almost laughed, the relief of his sudden victory filling his veins. "You don't need to wait here on my account."  
Without another word, Quintus sped away.  
Maximus found himself alone in the room with the corpse of Commodus, motionless, his face slack, the one-time Caesar seemed suddenly very innocent and boyish. The General found himself wondering, absently, if he had ever had a chance at becoming a good man…with the proper training… Maximus shook his head. There was something impious of even suggesting to himself that Marcus Aurelius had not been the sort of father that he should have been.  
The old man was dead. Now his son was gone too…they could pay their penance in the afterlife.  
The afterlife.  
He wondered what Elysium meant to Commodus. Maximus had always seen it so clearly- the warm, pink stones of his villa, the open arms of Selene and his son….  
Maximus blinked away a tear, still only half believing that his ordeal had ended…  
And now what would he do?  
Automatically his thoughts turned to Hildegarde, and to Match, the little son that he had never known.  
Would the boy resent him for being absent for so long?  
Would he ever understand what had happened?  
There was only one way to find out…  
  
24  
  
The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. Slowly, the Praetorians were brought to order, and the last brawls ended in the streets. The fighting had taken a heavy toll on the city. Almost no neighborhood had been spared the ravages of fires and looting triggered by the unrest, and the black smoke of burning bodies- Roman bodies, killed by Roman swords-  
soured the air with its choking stink.  
After two days, Lucilla had returned with Lucius and the twins. She had ridden all the way to Neapolis before news had reached her of Commodus' death. She had intended to sail for Egypt, but was thankful that it was not necessary.  
Annia Lucilla dealt with two shocks in one day. The first was seeing her brother dead. The second, finding Maximus alive. She had gasped when she saw him standing in the doorway of the palace. He was so tall and imposing- as if her dreams had been brought to life. She had to touch his arm before she believed that he was real.  
Lucilla and Antonia tended to the body of the Emperor. Maximus could tell, by the disapproving frown that seemed always on Quintus' face, that he did not understand his ex-wife's actions, but he did not try to stop her. He realized, as Maximus did, that she was caring for the man that Commodus could have been, for the young boy that had brought her the kitten, for the man who had loved her, no matter how misguided and unwanted his affection had been…  
Only Lucilla and Antonia stood in the rain for Commodus' funeral, and only Lucilla and Antonia accompanied his body to its tomb. They both insisted that he be buried with the other Antonines- an act of patrician pride that the soldiers found irritating, but endured.  
  
*****  
  
At last, it was over.  
Lucilla and Senator Gracchus had assumed interim control over Roman domestic affairs. Working with the senate, they hoped to design a system that would bring the elected body slowly back to power. The plan was a longshot- already there were murmurs of senators and soldiers planning to accumulate power, but it was respected as the last wish of Marcus Aurelius.  
Maximus had shared the emperor's wishes regarding his own role with only a few people. Only Quintus, Antonia and Lucilla were told that he had named Maximus to rule in his place. They all begged him to accept, and for a moment he had been tempted, but in the end he said "no".  
Marcus Aurelius had trusted him to bring power back to the people of Rome. His actions in removing Commodus from the throne made it possible for that to happen. For more than half his life he had acted for the people of Rome- now it was time for him to act for himself. He would go home, to Spain, and he would bring Hildegarde and Match with him. He would start fresh…  
Smiling, Maximus saw his life ahead as vast and fertile- like the freshly plowed fields in the springtime when he planted his wheat. His family would grow there.  
  
*****  
  
"So we really can't convince you to stay?" Quintus asked as he watched his friend saddle his horse. The General had already slung his few possessions across Scarto's back, and was preparing to go.  
"I don't belong here, Quintus." Maximus said quietly. "It isn't right."  
"It's what Marcus Aurelius wanted."   
"I know…but I also know that it isn't what I want."  
"What do you want?"  
"Another harvest…my son….a wife."  
"Hildegarde?"  
Maximus nodded.  
Quintus' lips curled up only slightly. Thus far, he and Antonia had not rewed, and Maximus knew that her sudden distance was troubling his friend.  
"We are going to settle in Spain."  
"Spain?" Quintus forced a smile. "Does she know that yet?"  
"No, but she'll agree. I know it. There's nothing to keep her in Germania." Maximus said with more confidence than he felt. Hildegarde had followed him halfway across the world already, he hoped that she wouldn't mind a few more miles.  
"Gods speed you both." Quintus said with heart-felt enthusiasm. "I will think of you often."  
"Good luck." Maximus replied. "You are a good leader, Quintus."  
Clarus laughed. "How do you know- I've never had a chance to lead."  
The nervousness the man felt regarding his new assignment- commanding the army during the interim government- showed.  
"You can prove it now….I know you will."  
The men shared a long look, their eyes saying things that their lips did not have the time, or the words to express: how much they would miss each other, and how much their friendship had meant during the crisis. "It will work on, Quintus." Maximus said as he swung himself onto the horse.  
He wasn't just talking about the army.  
  
25  
  
Night had fallen on the Claudii's villa, the starry sky reflected itself in the garden fountain. Quintus was walking along the arcade, caressing the marble columns with his fingertips as he passed. He was happy to be in the villa again but he was also unsettled by its familiar rooms. He knew the reason behind it. Antonia.  
Their relationship was still in a phase of stasis and he did not what to do. In the palace it had been easy to keep their distance, to allow each other his or her own space and the numerous problems raised by the new political scenario had kept their minds so occupied it had been easy to ignore their private situation. But now, surrounded again by the villa -- which they had returned soon than expected at Titus and Appius's insistence -- the worries that he had pushed away for days crushed in on Quintus.  
Another set of steps joined his and Quintus stopped, turning to see who it was, even though in his heart he already knew.  
Antonia was standing near the fountain, her pale dress contrasting with the darkness of the night. "Come to bed, Quintus." she whispered. He merely stared at her in silence and she added, reaching out a hand, "Please."  
Biting his lower lip Quintus walked to his former wife and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. "We need to talk, Antonia."  
"Yes," She sighed and went on, "I know you are upset about what happened with Commodus, but I swear to you I did it only to protect the children...and you."  
"I know...and I admire the courage you showed in such situation. But..but my heart does not want to accept that he kissed you… that he touched you. I know it is only stupid pride and that you must resent my sense of possession, but I've never lied to you and this is how I feel." Quintus turned his eyes away.  
Antonia put a hand on his cheek and gently coaxed him to look again at her, "I don't think your pride is stupid. And I don't resent your feeling of possession. But I cannot change what happened. We can only move forward and make new memories …crowd Commodus out of our minds with fresh happiness." She stepped back and waited for his answer.  
Quintus stared at her feeling love surge inside him. Antonia was right. He had to stop his behavior. He was punishing her for something she did not cause or even want- Commodus had done it, it and now he was dead.  
Slowly the general's lips curved upward and he murmured, "I love you."  
"I love you too. Now please come to bed." Once again she reached out a hand.  
Quintus arched an eyebrow and commented in a teasing tone, "That invitation is hardly proper, my lady, we are not married."  
"We weren't married the first night we made love either. Don't you remember, Quintus? We were locked in a hut in Germania ....." Antonia's tone was almost dreamy, "That night you showed me how beautiful it could be to be a woman with a man that she loves....and you have continued to show me for all these years..."  
Quintus felt desire rose inside him but before following her there was still something that he needed to hear, "So I may presume that you will marry me again?"  
"Of course!"   
Before Antonia could blink, he swept her in his arms and whispered, "I am happy to hear that but I advise you, my love- this habit you have of collecting husbands has to stop: I will gladly be number four, but I intend to be the last one!"  
Antonia burst into laughter and Quintus, after trying to keep his stern expression, gave up his act and joined her in happiness.  
"All right, husband number four, " she said slipping her hands around his neck, "I consider myself advised. And now, would you please take me to bed....?"  
"Your wish is my command, my lady." Quintus gave her a soft kiss before leaving the garden and walking quickly to their room.  
A few moments later a door slammed shut, breaking the stillness of the night. It echoed through the corridors for a moment, before silence and the peace settled on the now happy villa once more.  
  
*****  
  
Even though he was anxious to return to Ostia, the time seemed to pass quickly for Maximus. The roads were deserted- everyone was frightened of the unrest in Rome and wary of leaving home.  
At last, after a full day's ride, Maximus arrived at the seaport. It was already very late in the night and he headed directly for the Inn, pausing only to nod at the few remaining legionnaires that he saw along the way. He was anxious to return to Hildegarde. He had thought of almost nothing else besides holding her again for the length of the ride, and he was looking forward to turning his fantasies into reality.  
"What are you doing here?"  
The words if the innkeeper's wife took the General by surprise as he drifted into the little tavern on the ground floor.  
"Excuse me?"  
"You, you were supposed to be in Rome."  
"I already went to Rome." A smile crossed his lips. "It is over. I've returned for my..." he momentarily pondered calling Hildegarde his wife, wanting to test the word on his lips, but he swallowed it, flashing the old woman a grin. "Is she upstairs?"  
"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you she's gone!"  
Maximus felt his heart freeze in his chest.  
"Gone? What do you mean?"  
  
26  
  
Quintus and Antonia were disturbed very early the next morning by the sound of tapping on the bedroom door. They both came awake with a start, and then smiled at each other sheepishly, thinking shyly of the hours of guilty pleasure that they had passed the night before.  
The general ran his fingertips lightly along the soft skin of her side, giving her a wicked grin, and Antonia answered it with a glimmer of arousal in her eyes....but the knocking didn't stop, and so, with a sigh, Antonia crept out of bed, donned her robe, and answered the door.  
"Yes?" She said tersely to the servant waiting outside. She cracked the door only slightly, hiding Quintus from view- she doubted that the servants, or anyone for that matter, would really care that he was there. Their divorce had not been by choice, and at any rate, the Augusta was an emancipated woman who could do what (and whom) she pleased. Though she was loathe to admit it, Antonia rather enjoyed the tinge of illicitness to their affair, and so the door was not swung open. "What is it?"  
"I am sorry, Augusta" the serving girl said softly. "I did not wish to disturb you, but I did not know what to do...no one does."  
"Do?" Antonia tilted her head, "Do about what?"  
"The German."  
"The German?"  
"Yes. She arrived this morning- maybe last night. Her Latin isn't very good, so it is hard to tell. When we awoke she was sitting on the steps. She claims that she is here for..." the woman lowered her voice. "For the General, and she won't leave until she finds him...but I can't locate Master Clarus anywhere!"  
Antonia suppressed a grin. "Ah, yes. I seem to recall him saying that he was going to be....busy last night. Give me a moment to change and I will attend to the matter."  
"Yes, my lady."  
Antonia closed the door, and then faced Quintus, giving him a teasing look. "German temptresses on our porch already? You must not have had much faith in my agreeing to remarry you..."  
Quintus laughed, shrugging to indicate that he had no idea what the servants were talking about, but playing along with the joke. "Well, as we've discussed, I'll only be your FOURTH husband...I have to keep my options open."  
Antonia rolled her eyes and then pulled on a shift and sandals. "Wait here." She said, kissing him on the forehead before she turned to go.  
She found almost the entire household in the kitchen when she arrived. The wild-haired German was sitting in the center, looking distinctly ill at ease.  
The empress blinked, and then smiled. "Oh, you are looking for General Maximus." She said with realization, assuming that the servants did not recognize the girl in her native dress and hairstyle.. She shooed the servants away with her hand, and walked to the little stool where the German was sitting. "Hildegarde, isn't it?"  
The German nodded.  
"Well, Hildegarde, I'm sorry to tell you that Maximus isn't here."  
The woman's face twisted in alarm, so Antonia quickly added. "He is fine- but he went to Ostia to find you!"  
"Oh no!" the girl said in heavily accented Latin.  
Antonia smiled. "It is no matter, we will send a message to him. Did anyone in Ostia know that you came?"  
"Faustus." Hildegarde answered. "He promised that he would bring me himself, but I got tired of waiting."  
Antonia nodded again, recalling Quintus having mentioned that Maximus had left the woman in the centurion's care no doubt the man would be frantic at the thought he had "lost" the General's charge.  
"Well, I am sure that he will learn you are here soon enough and return." Her smile broadened. "You will, of course, be our guest until that time."  
Antonia gestured for the woman to follow her out of the servant's quarters.  
Hildegarde was directed to a bedroom, and given a bath, clothes and warm food. It was a relief, but she was still bitterly disappointed that she had missed Maximus. Still, Antonia had assured her that he had gone to Ostia to find her...though she didn't like to admit it, a part of her had feared that the General would never return.  
That night, Antonia drifted into her room. "How are you feeling?" She asked solicitously.  
"Well...as well as can be expected without-"  
"Without Maximus." Antonia offered a supportive smile. "He loves you too. He thought of nothing except going back to find you. We practically had to chain him to a chair while we worked out the transition."  
Hildegarde smiled.  
"What will happen now?" Antonia asked. "Will he marry you?"  
"He says he will, but...." Hildegarde sighed, not wanting to voice her fears.  
"But, what? I have known the General for all my life. He is nothing if not a man of his word. If he says he will marry you, then he shall."  
"But." Hildegarde felt tears prick at her eyes. "It would destroy him! All of his money is gone...his lands...the only way he could hope to regain them is with a marriage to a rich matron. Even I have been in Rome long enough to see how that works."  
"Where love exists, there will always be a way." Antonia soothed, offering a handkerchief to dab her guests eyes. "Now, dry your tears, and listen. Things have already been taken care of...I have a plan."  
  
*****  
  
At last, the next afternoon, Maximus returned to the villa.  
"Back so soon?" Quintus teased, standing on the front steps.  
Maximus chuckled. "You seem to have something that belongs to me."  
"I knew there had to be a way to get you to stay, at least temporarily."  
Maximus nodded at his friend, but he really only had eyes for Hildegarde, she ran to his arms, and he lifted her high into the air, crushing her small form against his own larger one. They kissed for a long moment, completely unconcerned by the looks of the others around them.   
When the finally parted, Quintus rose from his chair. "I'll show you to your room, Maximus. No doubt you'll want to get some 'rest' before tonight."  
"Tonight? What happens tonight?"  
Quintus shrugged. "I don't know. Antonia won't tell me- so you should definitely be wary. She says that the men of the Legions want to hold a banquet to celebrate our victory.  
Maximus gave Antonia a searching look, but she smiled innocently, playfully pushing Maximus, and the German toward the hall. "Rest up!"  
  
27  
  
Maximus felt his eyes tear at the sight of the little camp that had been set up on the Campus Martius, acutely aware that this might be the last time he would enter an encampment as its commander. It looked like a miniature replica of the castrum in Germania, only it was arranged for pleasure, and not for war. The neatly ranged rows of tents had been spaced wide apart to allow for large cooking fires that flashed against the bright metal of the standard poles. The high tinkling of music filled the air.  
He rode to the Praetorium in the center, the sides open to reveal that the individual chambers had been joined to create a giant banquet hall. He and Quintus dismounted their horses, and then walked back to the carriage to help Antonia and Hildegarde alight.  
Maximus had to smile at the transformation the Augusta had worked on Hildegarde. With diligence, she and a handful of slaves had tamed the woman's thick chestnut mane into a Roman hairstyle, anchored with a golden tiara. Peridots and emeralds, bringing out the green in her eyes, accented the crown, as well as the necklace that circled her neck. She was wearing a pine-colored tunica and sheer mint stola embroidered with thistles at the hem.  
Beside her, Antonia looked very regal. She still bore the title of Augusta, and announced it with her deep purple gown, and the pattern of oak-leaves on her sleeves and skirt.  
Maximus offered both ladies his arm, but Antonia pulled Hildegarde away. "Oh, no." She said with a grin. "We have to get ready!"  
"Ready?" Maximus knit his brows in confusion. "But-"  
"Generals!" The Spaniard's attention was distracted by Faustus, who led both Meridas and Clarus into the tent. The man had arrived in Rome the very day that Hildegarde had, intent on finding her before his commander learned what had happened. No one had been more relieved than he to track the girl to the Claudii manse.  
As soon as the commanders entered the tent, a shout went up. The men began yelling for a speech, and Quintus edged the general forward, but Maximus did not know what to say. Where were the words to express his gratitude for their loyalty? For their courage in following him even when he had no assurance to give them. In the end, he simply said "Thank you." and commended them for their long years of service. Then he sat down on a couch next to Quintus.  
"Do you know where the women went?" He asked.  
Quintus shrugged, looking as confused as he. "No idea."  
The food was served, and Hildegarde and Antonia's absence became more and more of a mystery.  
At last, as the soldiers finished licking the honey of dessert from their fingertips, a bugle sounded, and Faustus rose suddenly to his feet. "And now, General Maximus...a gift..."  
The centurion took a scroll off of the table and held it into the light to read.  
"In recognition of meritorious and selfless service...." Maximus looked around in puzzlement as the flowery opening droned on. "....the Senate and People of Rome, through their noble representatives do hereby decree that Maximus Decimus Meridas, General of the Northern Armies and true son of Rome is hereby restored...." Maximus gasped as the list was read. His property in Hispania, his money...all of it had been restored, and more. There was a house at Cumae now....a farm in Egypt.....  
"Thank you." Maximus said, humbly when it was through. "I don't know how you arranged this, but..."  
"That wasn't our gift!" Faustus said quickly, "That was from Lucilla and Gracchus....we have something else in mind."  
At a nod of his head, a curtain on the far end of the hall was opened, and Maximus gasped again.  
It was Hildegarde, dressed as a Roman bride, the flaming red veil covering her head and shoulders. Antonia, acting as pronumba (though he status as a divorced woman wasn't exactly right for the role) led her forward to Maximus' side.  
"Please forgive me for being presumptuous." The Augusta said with a smile as she stepped near. Another man, pulling his toga over his head, came forward to act as officiant, and Antonia stepped away.  
Hildegarde looked at Maximus carefully. Was he angry? Antonia had insisted that he would be pleased, but the German was not so sure. Perhaps she had jumped to conclusions. She was relieved when she peered into the General's eyes and found only love and perfect contentment with what was about to transpire.  
He took her hand, and then, smiling broadly, took his vows.  
After the wedding, another scroll was brought forward- adoption papers for Match. He was Maximus' natural son, but his illegitimacy necessitated the action. Now, on his fifteenth birthday, he would be come a citizen of Rome.  
Maximus felt overwhelmed by all the surprises of the evening but not so much to be blind to the wishful glances Quintus was throwing to Antonia. He tilted his head and looked at his friends considering if he really wanted to push his nose into their affairs. "Well," he thought "Antonia certainly did not mind her own business concerning Hildegarde and I....maybe it is time to repay the favor."  
The general bent his head to the side and whispered in his new wife's ear, "Would you be terribly disappointed if I ask you to remove that beautiful flamine now rather than in the bedroom?"  
Hildegarde blinked in surprise, "No....but why do you want it?"  
"I think there is another woman who needs to wear it this evening." The German followed her husband's eyes and smiled. "You are right." And with a few quick tugs she pulled away the red cloak. Maximus took it and walked to where Quintus and Antonia were standing. They turned to greet him and he smiled broadly. "I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Hildegarde and I."  
Antonia smiled, waving his words away, "It was a pleasure...I enjoyed myself immensely."  
The Spaniard grinned and went on, "And I also wanted to know if you would be interested in wearing this tonight." He showed her the red veil. Antonia's eyes widened as he continued, "Augusta, do you really intend to continue with your outrageous conduct? Trysting with soldiers!!! Think about your children......" Maximus made an effort to look stern but his lips were twitching upward.  
Quintus and Antonia looked at each other. They had already decided to get married again, so why wait? The officiant was here, their friends were here..... Antonia grabbed the flamine and then motioned to Hildegarde to follow her, "Give us five minutes," she said before disappearing behind a curtain.  
Maximus and Quintus barely had time to recall the assembly to order before Antonia and Hildegarde reappeared, walking the same path as before, their roles now inverted.  
Quintus stepped forward and took Antonia's hand leading her toward the officiant. A few minutes later they were once more husband and wife, and the noise of the well-wishing shouts of the soldiers threatened to make the tent crumble.  
  
Epilogue: Letters  
  
Gaul, December 181AD  
  
My Dear Quintus,  
I trust that this letter will find you well. I apologize for the delay in my response. As you can see, Hildegarde and I have not found ourselves in Hispania after all, and it was several months before your last writing reached me here in Massalia.   
No doubt you are wondering at my change in plans. It is a simple story. Hildegarde found that she loved Germania more than she had admitted, and I am, alas, too Roman to live among her people. We struck a compromise on the coast, halfway between her lands and mine. For myself, the nearby seaport and bustling town remind me of civilization and Rome, for my wife, the temperate climate and forests are familiar enough to make her at home.   
I miss Hispania, but in a way I am glad that I have not returned. I have entrusted my lands to my neighbor, Fabius, and I wonder that I shall ever see them again. I had intended to rebuild the house, but it could only be haunted by ghosts. I am ready, again, to live among life. I want to raise my children in a home that is not shadowed by the past.  
Yes, * children *, I suppose that I haven't had a chance to tell you, Hildegarde and I had another child....a baby girl we called Germania -- it is a strange name but we found it appropriate. She is a real beauty like her mother....and they are both doing great. I wish that you could meet Match….well, Maximus Decimus Meridas Iunior, as you know him (but his mother and I always call him by his native name). He has taken to Latin quite easily, speaking with an accent, but I expect that shall fade. He is almost four and a half years old, the same age as Marcus the last time I saw him alive…at times I weep for the years of Match's life that I missed, and in other ways, I feel that I know him only now for a reason- that the Gods are showing me the rest of Marcus, together, I will have witnessed the whole life of a son- Not that I see Match as a replacement for Marcus! They are very different. It would be hard to compare the two. Where Marcus was very dark, like his mother, Match is fairer. His hair has faded somewhat from its baby blonde, and I expect it will finish in the same chestnut bronze of his mother. He has my eyes. He is very good natured, and scholarly. Yes, I know what you are thinking- a scholarly German?- But I can say in all honesty that he displays more curiosity and original thought than any of the boys I ever ran across in little marketplace schools. He already reads well, and I am teaching him the little recitation that I know. I would like to hire a tutor, but Hildegarde is being "tamed" in slow phases- I do not want to push her too fast. It is hard for her to see her son becoming a Roman, even though among her own people she was never at home. And also Match is still so very young.....  
I should tell you about Hildegarde. As you know, we returned to her village after the wedding. I met little Match for the first time, and also faced Hildegarde's parents- that is to say, her mother and stepfather- for the first time with my true identity.  
The stepfather, Godeoc, was wary but open-minded. He made it clear that I could not stay, but tolerated the marriage. He seemed reluctant to part with little Match, and I am grateful that he was such a commendable surrogate father for the boy for all the years that I was away. I promised to him and his wife to return to visit next summer.  
Hildegarde and I were married in the German fashion- yes, I know, we were already married in Rome, but you know how women are, and at any rate, I was happy to oblige her. It was a beautiful ceremony. Even though I did not know what the priest was saying, I could sense that he was talking about life, about the completion that grows between a man and a woman who are truly meant for each other- and it seemed appropriate for Hildegarde and I in ways that the Roman ceremony was not.  
Listen to me, mooning on like a schoolgirl in love!  
No doubt you will laugh at me, but I am afraid that civilian life has made me soft…..soft, but happy.  
Watching my crops grow tall in the fields that surround our house, listening to Match play in the yard, holding Hildegarde on my lap, watching Germania suckle at her breasts, I have known a contentment never found before. Peace. I cherish it.  
I had the strangest dream the first night after I returned to Spain. I was exhausted from digging graves, and collapsed, unconscious on the dirt. While I slept, I dreamt of a terrible version of what my life could be….Some of the parts were the same, returning home to the burned out villa, finding Selene and Marcus dead…but others were different. Hildegarde was not there to save me. I was captured by slavers and taken to Africa, sold as a gladiator, and forced to fight for the right to survive. Even while dreaming, my mission was the same-to kill Commodus and avenge my loves. And, although I succeeded, the ending was not the same. I faced Caesar at last in the Coliseum, surrounded by the people of Rome…We struggled to the death, and, at last, I struck the killing blow.  
Caesar died. As he was dying, I realized that I envied him, that there was nothing left for me in the world. I felt my life's blood pouring from my wounds, and I was happy, because my struggle was almost over. I had nothing left to live for and was glad to die…..how happy I am that I awoke, that Hildegarde was there to save me and come with me to Rome. Happiness comes again. Life goes on. No doubt I have tears left to cry, but there are many smiles left between now and then.  
Send my love to Antonia and your sons.  
-Maximus Decimus Meridas  
  
  
Rome, January 182  
  
My Dear Maximus,  
What a pleasure was to receive your letter at last! After so many months of silence I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you and Hildegarde.  
I loved reading about your new life and your new daughter but, really, we should stop doing the same things at the same time! Do you wonder what I mean? Well, we fell in love in Germania at the same time; our sons are of the same age; we married the same night, and now we have become fathers again in the same year..  
Oh yes, my friend, Antonia and I just had another child, a boy we called Claudius. I would have loved to have a daughter, a little copy of Antonia, but I am happy all the same. The only annoyance is that Claudius was conceived just after or just before Antonia's 'marriage' to Commodus and now the gossips all whisper that the boy is really the son of the late emperor. Of course we know that is impossible but the rumors are difficult to silence. Oh well, let's talk about something else.  
I read about how proud you are of Match. I feel the same about Appius and Titus. They are both so bright I am sometimes amazed by how quickly they learn things. I love to spend time with them but I have still to learn how to make them respect me. I find it somewhat strange that they come to me when they do something wrong to be 'protected' from Antonia....I always thought it should be the other way around! And my wife, of course, laughs every time it happens- The big, bad general at the mercy of his two small sons!  
About the political situation in Rome, I can tell you that the transition from Empire to Republic is a long, slow affair. Gracchus and Lucilla are doing a good job but there are some hot-headed senators who are trying to grab more power than their peers. We all must work hard to keep them in check.....I am not very well-suited for the political arena, there are too many compromised I must accept. I am used to the army life, where everything is white or black while in the Senate we have only different shades of gray. Truth be told, I long to return to the front. Yes, I know, after all the dangers we faced, I should be glad to be safe and lead a quite life but I am becoming bored. Antonia is also restless in the capitol, she prefers army gatherings to the mundane parties of the Urbe. I don't want to make a hurried decision and I certainly will not leave before the situation here is stabilized, but I am thinking about asking for a command position up north, in Britannia. The Scoti are pushing on Hadrian's wall and that could be a good occasion for the Felix Legion to show its valor again. Anyway, even if I should decide to leave for another campaign, I will come to visit you first.....I really want to see you working in your fields and scratching in the dirt! And I think Match, Titus and Appius might like to play with each other.   
Oh- speaking of visits, I must should warn you that one day or another you might receive one from Lucilla. I think you must know that she is convinced you married Hildegarde only because you were still in shock from Selene's death and reacted in a strange way. We explained to her that you fell in love with Hildegarde years before but she did not believe us. I believe Lucilla still loves you and she cannot accept that she lost you to a 'barbarian.' I hope that, with time, she will change her mind, but I thought it was better to alert you.  
Changing subjects, I might not be very good at politics, but I am certainly finding success in the business arena. My family trading business is thriving as never before! The political unrest has made the price of grain go sky-high- but, of course, you already know this, since your many farms are producing it.  
Well, I suppose I told you all that I needed to let you know. Next time you write, please remember to send me the directions to reach your home so I may keep my promise of a visit.  
Give my regards to Hildegarde.  
-Quintus Clarus  
  
PS Your dream was very odd.....it was more like a nightmare. A gladiator in the arena indeed! I wonder where you could have gotten such a strange idea!  
  
The End  
  
  
  
  



End file.
